Frozen: The Snow Queen
by Halm Vendrella
Summary: Living for so long in fear of her powers, Elsa never quite realized that the most difficult part of being the Snow Queen might not always be the "snow" part. A story of magic and mystery... of desire and responsibility... of love and family.
1. Chapter One: After the Thaw

**Frozen is the property of Disney.**

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**CHAPTER ONE**

**After the Thaw**

She was awakened by the smell of smoke.

A thin haze filled the room, stinging her throat and filling her with fear. Leaping from bed, she ran to the door and threw it open, blinking and coughing as a thick cloud billowed in to surround her. Her legs moved without thinking, but even as she ran she was struck by the wrongness of her surroundings.

The corridors were strange and empty, twisting and branching in unfamiliar ways. She sprinted through the halls, taking turns that shouldn't have been there, passing doors that led to unknown rooms, and catching glimpses of windows she'd never looked through.

All else was forgotten when the first wall of flame leapt out to block her path. The crackling roar of fire filled her ears as she recoiled from the heat. Shielding her face with one arm, with a wave of the other she reached for her power. Fear turned to panic as the fire only danced closer to her, skittering across the carpet, consuming the fabric like a ravenous, mindless beast.

_Why now? _Trapped and powerless, a part of her was howling in frustration, but her gaze darted back and forth, searching for escape. She was hopelessly lost in the unfamiliar maze, but again her body seemed to move with a will of its own. She threw open the nearest door and dashed into the room beyond. Its furnishings were an indistinct grey jumble in the smoke, but somehow she found another door and emerged back into the hallway.

The passage split in two directions, but just as a fresh surge of panic seemed to stall her frantic run, the ceiling of the left hallway collapsed in the thunder of splintering wood and hungry flame. After another heartbeat of hesitation, she ran down the only open path. The fire pursued, surging along the wall beside her, impossibly fast. She ran faster. She tried to ward away the waves of heat, sweat stinging her eyes, floating embers searing her face and arms. She could feel her lungs burning from the oppressive smoke. She raced the fire towards the end of the hall. A window was there, its panes stained opaque with soot. For a second she feared her body wouldn't stop its mad dash and would go crashing straight through the glass, but she stumbled to a halt, her gaze turning to the door at the end of the wall, white paint peeling away in the heat.

With an audible roar, the fire surged past her, shrouding the door in flapping pennons of red and orange that licked the hallway from ceiling to floor. Its heat pushed her back with almost physical force. But through the mad cackling of the flames and the staccato snaps of smoldering plaster and burning wood, a new sound reached her ears. It was a cry for help, desperate and wracked by coughs, coming through the door.

_Anna? No! Anna!_ She wanted to scream, but her voice would not obey. Nor would the rest of her body, as her gaze darted back and forth, searching for another way through, any way at all to reach the other side of the door that was blackening before her eyes. In a terrible instant of clarity, a stillness came over her, a frightening and purposeful calm that seemed to stop the world itself in its tracks. The flames writhing along the charred wood of the door seemed to slow to a crawl as she felt herself back against the opposite wall. The heat hissed at her like an animal, and she felt her eyes burning from the mix of smoke and sweat and tears. Without a second thought, she lowered her shoulder and charged.

She heard the weakened wood split under the strain. She felt a thousand claws tearing into her as the fire caught, grasping at clothes and skin and hair.

And with a scream, Queen Elsa of Arendelle awoke in her bed.

Her breath was coming in frantic gasps. The ghost of pain faded away, and she raised a shaking hand to the side of her face. The skin was smooth, cold with sweat and evening chill and her powers. A thin layer of frost encrusted her sheets and bed, radiating from her body amidst the twisted blankets.

_It was a dream_, she thought, struggling to rein in the rapid panting of her breath. But her relief was short-lived, interrupted by a thunderous pounding on the door of her chambers.

"Your Majesty?!" a voice shouted, muffled but urgent. "Are you all right?"

Elsa fought back against a fresh wave of panic. With a conscious effort she suppressed the impulse to hide, for years the only companion she'd had to the thought of someone at her door. "I'm fine!" she called, her voice cracking only a little. "Give me a moment."

The insistent pounding on her door stopped. With a brittle chorus of crackling frost, she threw away her thin coverlet and grabbed a robe from the corner of her bed. She padded across the room as she tied the sash, the pale skin of her feet seeming to glow in the moonlight. Resting her fingertips on the handle of the door, she let the coldness of the metal seep into her, grateful for the clarity of the touch. With one last steadying breath, she opened the door.

Her eyes grew wide, and she couldn't help the instinctive flinch at the sight of two men with unsheathed swords in their hands. When the guards recognized their queen, unharmed and dressed only in a nightgown and robe, they traded sheepish looks and put away their weapons.

"Apologies, Majesty. We heard a scream."

"I'm sorry to worry you," Elsa replied, successfully keeping her voice level. "It was just a nightmare."

The guards glanced past her to the glittering layer of frost that encased her bed, and traded another look. In the dim moonlight from the bedroom window behind her, Elsa could clearly see the expressions on their faces. She recognized the look, one she had seen on even the oldest servants, those who had stayed with the castle through the years of isolation imposed because of her curse. _My powers_, she corrected herself firmly. In the brief time since her return to Arendelle, Elsa and her subjects were still tentatively feeling their way around one another. They all had a lot to get used to. The only one who seemed impervious to the awkward newness of Arendelle and its recluse-turned-sorceress queen was Anna.

_Anna!_

Elsa's chest tightened as a rush of memories from her nightmare surged anew. A wave of fear spawned a fresh layer of frost on the doorknob beneath her hand, and she pulled her arm back as if scalded. _A dream. It was a dream_. She took a calming breath, and the ice faded away.

The guards had taken a wary step back, but she chose to ignore that. "Please return to your duties," she commanded, her voice quiet but firm. "I'm going to look in on my sister." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she strode between them and down the hall towards Anna's room. Unlike her dream, this was a path with which she was well-acquainted, from the patterns of the wallpaper down to the spot of chipped plaster nearly hidden behind the statue of St. Olaf. The familiarity was reassuring.

She hesitated at Anna's door. Elsa didn't know what she expected to find, but some part of the dream still nagged at her. A trembling hand moved towards the handle of the door, but she froze at a sound from the other side. Turning her head, she leaned towards the door, straining her ears. When Elsa recognized the sound, she almost failed to stifle a laugh. It seemed that Anna still snored.

Not wishing to disturb her sister's rest, she turned the handle ever so carefully. Cracking the door open, well-oiled hinges betrayed no whisper of sound. Elsa glided inside, bare feet silent on the carpet. She stopped beside the bed, gazing down on her younger sister's comically disheveled form. Anna had always been an… active sleeper, going back to the days when they had shared a bed as very young girls. A surge of warmth filled Elsa's chest, as welcome as it was unfamiliar. She reached out and brushed at one of the countless wild tangles across Anna's face. The girl mumbled drowsily, rolling towards the touch, which only served to dislodge a few more locks.

Elsa drew back with a smile, one hand trailing absently along the braid draped over her own shoulder. Only a handful of platinum-blond strands had made their way loose, despite her fitful rest, but even that small token of her newfound freedom reminded Elsa of just how much she owed to her sister's love and freewheeling spirit.

Elsa left the room as silently as she had entered, one hand clasped above her heart, as though she could cradle the warmth she felt there like a physical thing. The first pink hints of dawn were beginning to creep through the gloom outside the windows of the castle, and she strode with renewed purpose back to her own room to make herself presentable for the responsibilities that awaited her as queen.

The time for dreams and nightmares was past. A new day was dawning in Arendelle.


	2. Chapter Two: All the Queen's Men

**CHAPTER TWO**

**All the Queen's Men**

"Good morning, Your Majesty."

"Good morning, Gerda." Elsa was trying, with modest success, not to let the effects of a short and restless night show in her bearing. She found the effort much easier at the sight of one of the longest-tenured servants of the castle.

Elsa had learned long ago, by cruel necessity, to dress herself in all the finery of her station without help. Perhaps her dresses had been a bit less garish, her hairstyles a bit simpler, but she had managed, and taken some small comfort and pride in that. She had donned a skirt and bodice of royal blue over a grey blouse, colors common in her wardrobe and well-loved ever since she was a girl. As liberating and gorgeous as her ice gown had been, the return of summer to Arendelle made the garment somewhat less practical, and it was quite simply too gaudy for a day at court. It was enough for Elsa to keep her hair in its single loose braid.

In any other situation, a chambermaid of Gerda's standing might have teased at Elsa's hair or brushed at half-seen wrinkles in her dress, but Gerda knew better than to fuss over her queen's appearance. She stood a respectful distance away, and the soft smile of approval that lifted the lines from the older woman's face was enough to lift a weight off of Elsa's shoulders. "You look as beautiful as ever, my queen. Your parents would be so proud of you."

Elsa could think of nothing to say to that. She put on what she hoped was a grateful smile, to mask the flood of feelings such a simple comment elicited. But though she tried her best to hide the reaction, she did not force the feelings away. Her gaze dropped to her hands, the fair skin of her palms uncovered. It was not perfect, but it was better. That was enough for now.

A knock on the door to her chamber brought an end to her reverie. "Enter," she called.

The door opened with a muffled creak, just wide enough to admit another familiar face. "The council awaits you, Queen Elsa."

"Thank you, Kai." With a last deep breath to steady her nerves, she followed the chamberlain down the hall.

He stopped at the massive double doors leading to the council chambers, glancing over his shoulder. At the queen's nod, he threw open the doors, proclaiming, "Queen Elsa of Arendelle!" as he stepped in and to the side. The creak of wooden chairs pushing across the marble floor rang through the high-ceilinged room as those present stood to greet their queen, bowing over the long, polished oaken table that spanned nearly the whole length of the room.

The men surrounding the table returned to their seats, though not before Elsa had taken hers at their head. This particular ceremony was both familiar and well-rehearsed. Though it was her first time to take her place as ruling queen, Elsa had attended the weekly meetings of the council as heir apparent, and even before then she had sat in on occasion as the heir presumptive at her father's side. The meetings with the six-member body had thus accounted for the majority of her human contact for several long, lonely years.

Kai had made his way around the table to the chair furthest to her left. He took his seat next to William, the bishop who had presided over her coronation. To Elsa's immediate left was Lucas, the Mayor of Arendelle, elected by the townspeople to represent her subjects who lived outside the castle walls. To her right was Sebastian, her steward, who had first been appointed to manage the properties and accounts of the crown by her grandfather. To his right was Henrik, the foreign minister, and in the last seat on her right was Mathias, captain of the guard. These half-dozen men comprised Elsa's privy council, and the faces looking to her now were all familiar.

Or they would be, if most of them didn't look quite so guarded. Until a week ago, her seclusion had been a curiosity for Arendelle, debated furiously in private but never openly discussed, especially within the castle walls. Her powers had been a whispered rumor: easy to dismiss, a relic of gossip from the few carefree years of her childhood. She had changed all that, rather spectacularly.

Suddenly Elsa was glad to have foregone the ice gown for an entirely new reason: the peace of her kingdom was tenuous enough without reminding everyone, herself included, of the power she commanded.

It was almost a surprise when someone finally spoke. "We have all eagerly awaited this day, Queen Elsa," the bishop offered into the frosty silence. He favored her with a calm, benign expression, and spoke with the same measured tones that he used from the pulpit of the chapel. "It is good to see you back among your people, and in the seat you were born to hold."

The others took the hint. After a heartbeat and a few cleared throats, Elsa nodded through their chorus of polite greetings with a tremulous smile.

Habit thus reasserted itself, and they began to discuss the practical matters of the kingdom. The foreign minister reported on the progress of farewells for the dignitaries who had attended the coronation. (Elsa tried not to scowl at the thought of Hans and the Duke of Weselton, whose departures had been somewhat more immediate, at her insistence.) The mayor gave them updates on the improving lumber harvest and the delving of a new mine in the eastern foothills. The captain's lack of news was good news, as he was also responsible for preventing crime in the city proper. Kai summarized the recent hirings for the castle staff, which had expanded to service the coronation, and mentioned his hopes for further additions to accommodate the newly-opened gates. The steward countered that with a long-winded discourse on accounts, expenses, and tariffs, which rounded the discussion back to the mayor and his hopes for a reduction in the crown's share of docking fees.

For a good while, Elsa observed the conversations in silence. This, too, was part of the council's habit. She had spent too long trying to restrain her powers in the presence of others to make herself an active participant. From what she could remember, her father had not been very involved, either; the monarch's role had always been mostly ceremonial. However, the distraction provided by focusing on the councilors' debates meant Elsa was far from uninformed about the goings-on of Arendelle, not to mention acquainted with the styles and habits of those who would decide its course. Perhaps moreso than the men at the table gave her credit for.

In the midst of an increasingly strident debate between Kai and Sebastian over whether they needed two new grooms for the stables or just one, Elsa put up a hand for quiet. The chamberlain fell silent at once, and the steward turned to blink owlishly at her through his spectacles.

It was the latter on whom she focused her gaze. "Sebastian, I know how long you've prided yourself on keeping the kingdom's finances in order, but you're pushing back more than usual today. For better or worse, the gates are open again, and Kai is going to need more people."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," said the chamberlain, overcoming his surprise at Elsa's intervention to direct a satisfied smirk in the steward's direction. "The castle has operated with a skeleton staff for more than a decade. It won't do any longer, and you're just going to have to find the coin for it somewhere, Sebastian."

The steward didn't flinch, nor did he return the chamberlain's smug gaze. "My queen, I understand your argument, but I fear you don't understand the whole picture."

One dark eyebrow crept upwards. "Really? Income from the docks has been steady for years, and with the mayor's lumber quotas and the new mine in the eastern foothills, I'd expect duties to increase more than enough to hire the people we need."

That brought the steward, and the rest of the council for that matter, up short. Sebastian gathered himself, taking a long look at the ledger spread out in front of him, a book almost as large as he was. "An astute observation, Your Majesty. And you would be correct if not for recent events pertaining to our trading partners."

Elsa frowned. "Meaning?"

"Shipping income has been steady for years because it has peaked. Without the trade generated by the castle and royal family, we've needed to sell everything abroad to keep up revenue, and the bulk of our goods have been moving through Weselton. As deplorable as his actions were, the duke is a canny businessman."

Elsa bristled. "The man tried to have me killed!" she exclaimed.

"I didn't say your proclamation was wrong, Your Majesty," the steward said reasonably. "And I can happily report that the duke's bottom line will suffer far more than ours under the circumstances. I was merely pointing out the facts at hand."

"I will not reconsider my decision on trade with Weselton," she said through clenched teeth. After several deep breaths, she closed her eyes and sighed. "At least not so long as the current duke is in power."

"A perfectly reasonable position. Unfortunately, Weselton is not the only factor we must account for."

Elsa's fists clenched, safely hidden beneath the table. The skittering of frost as it gathered on the underside of the oaken surface, however, was quickly going to become noticeable if she couldn't reign in her anger. "I see."

"I'm sure you do." The steward waved a hand over the countless pages of tiny, tidy scrawl that enumerated Arendelle's financial pulse. "I daresay you can tell me who has been the largest buyer of the timber and ore our citizens have produced for sale."

Elsa was suddenly too tired to take offense at the steward's patronizing tone. She wearily massaged one throbbing temple. "The Southern Isles."

"Indeed," the steward confirmed. "You'll forgive me if I consider trade prospects with them to be… uncertain."

"The question, then, is what can we do about it?" said the bishop.

"Weselton and the Southern Isles can hardly be our only potential trading partners," the mayor pointed out, looking across the table to the foreign minister.

"Considering recent events, most of our guests have departed on friendly enough terms," Henrik replied. "But profitable trading partners? That will be much more difficult to arrange."

"Also because of me, no doubt," Elsa said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. _Can I really blame them? Who would want to offer goods to their citizens from the realm of the sorceress queen?_

Henrik shrugged. "Yes, Your Majesty. Though not for the reasons you might think. Politics is a blood sport, and even kingdoms we would call friends will look to take advantage of a neophyte ruler and wring out the most favorable terms possible. Hardly insurmountable, but I don't know if we can afford the delay," he concluded, looking to the steward.

Sebastian gave a thoughtful hum, punctuated by the rasp of parchment as he turned through pages in his ledger. "We've been working on thin margins for many years, and the coronation festivities took a large percentage of the treasury to stage. We'll need most of this quarter's tax revenue just to keep the current staff paid in full, nevermind any unexpected expenses. We might need to levy an extra quarter this year to—"

"No," Elsa said, her voice returning to the discussion with a finality that surprised even herself. "This situation is my fault. I will not burden my subjects on account of my mistakes."

"Majesty, we may not have a choice," said Sebastian. "Even on the best terms, I can't guarantee the treasury could bear the expense of our grain purchase for the coming winter."

_The coming winter? Surely they haven't forgotten where the last one came from,_ Elsa thought bleakly. For a moment, her mind wandered to her palace on the north mountain, doubtless still standing untouched upon the forbidding, ever-frozen peak. _Maybe I should have just gone back as soon as I lifted the curse. Arendelle certainly couldn't be any worse off, so long as it's safe from me._

"Don't make it a tax, then," Kai suggested. "Be honest with the people, and offer to take in donations."

"The church would happily contribute to such a cause, of course," Bishop William said diplomatically, "though I worry what kind of precedent we would be setting for the queen's reign with such an act."

"Surely we can band together for a few months," said Kai. "Next year might be better."

"You want to bet your life savings on that, or just ours?" Mayor Lucas replied, scowling.

Kai grimaced, looking pointedly at the mayor's finely tailored suit. "Some of us have more to offer than others."

Against the backdrop of rising acrimony, the simple statement struck Elsa with a flash of inspiration. The answer was clear, and it put to rest more questions than just the one of how to feed the people of Arendelle. With one gesture she could atone for all the harm she had done to her kingdom, and clear the path for a better future for everyone. It was a solution so simple and profoundly appropriate that she wondered how she hadn't seen it before.

Elsa could see one problem… but she could hope that Anna would forgive her.

"Gentlemen!" she barked, her voice cutting through a retort from Lucas that was not fit for polite company. The reminder of the queen's presence more than her shout itself seemed to stop the mayor mid-profanity. "It's pointless for us to sit here squabbling over money. We have a source of funds that should provide Minister Henrik more than enough time to reach an agreement to meet our future needs."

This was quite obviously news to the steward. The man stared at her, not even bothering to check his ledger for some unaccounted windfall. "Your Majesty?"

"The treasury may be empty, but that isn't Arendelle's only asset. There are two accounts held in trust which have been accumulating significant value and interest for many years. The larger of these should provide all the money we need, and is at the disposal of the crown. Or to be specific, myself." She folded her hands on the table in front of her, and waited.

Within a single heartbeat, Sebastian had gone paler than the parchment of his ledger, Kai's eyes were wide as saucers, and Minister Henrik looked as though he might faint. Within two, the mayor was leaning back in his chair, visibly speechless, and the captain of the guard – all but silent to this point – was sputtering in disbelief.

On the third heartbeat, Bishop William shot out of his chair, voice raised to a shout that like as not could be heard on the other side of the Atlantic. "Queen Elsa, that is your_ dowry!_"

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***A/N*** - I don't imagine anyone clicked into this looking for a thrilling tale of council meetings and trade agreements. Apologies for the dry start, but I am going somewhere far more interesting with this, I promise.

From what we see in the movie, Arendelle doesn't appear to have much in the way of farmland; like most fjords it's ringed by cliffs and mountains. Even a small community would need to import some food, to supplement fish and game.

To give you an idea about Elsa's dowry: when Eleanor of Aquitaine married Henry II, she brought with her what amounted to a third of modern France. Arendelle is a tiny kingdom, but Elsa would almost certainly be the wealthiest person in it, even without her dower trust.

I won't burden the story proper with gibberish about concepts (unless something is plot-relevant) like cognatic primogeniture, but I'll have a few notes like this that you can feel free to read if you're suffering from insomnia. Suffice it to say anyone looking to marry a ruling queen would expect her to bring quite a windfall. The council is so shocked because they view that "giving away" the money could have dire consequences for the kingdom, such as Elsa having to marry into the line of some random foreigner instead of it being the other way around.


	3. Chapter Three: Friends Old and New

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Friends Old and New**

For a long moment after the bishop's shout, no one spoke. Even Elsa was a bit taken aback by the vehemence of the normally soft-spoken and levelheaded man's outburst. William remained standing, his miter slightly askew, staring at her with a pleading intensity. A glance around the room revealed the other five men in a similar state.

The queen returned their looks, hands still clasped on the tabletop in front of her. It had been a long time since she'd felt quite so calm. "I understand your concerns, but this is the best possible decision for the people of Arendelle."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." It was Mayor Lucas, surprisingly, who offered that opinion. "You're young yet, Majesty, and your sister younger still, but the day may come when Arendelle will need a king to continue your line. The people have been proud subjects of your family for generations, and we don't want anyone else on the throne."

Elsa gave the mayor a hesitant smile, sincerely touched by the loyalty of someone who probably had more right to fear than fealty. "Thank you. But your concern is unnecessary."

"Your Majesty, please don't make this decision rashly," Minister Henrik implored. "Give me time to speak to the dignitaries still present in the city."

"Of course. But summer is already waning," Elsa warned. "The longer we wait, the greater the chance this stops being a problem and becomes a crisis. I won't stand for that, not when I can do something about it." She raised her hands, looking between the faces around her. "Do any of you have a better solution?"

An uneasy silence fell, punctuated by a long litany of sour looks shared between the councilors. Sebastian cleared his throat, adjusting his spectacles as he glanced down at his ledger. "Your Majesty's dowry is significant, far more than we would require. Perhaps the second trust—" he trailed off in the face of Elsa's cold stare. The temperature of the room had dropped perceptibly.

"That money is not mine to give away."

"Both accounts are held in trust to the crown," the steward insisted.

"Which I hold as queen," Elsa agreed. "But the second trust is Anna's. Are you suggesting I steal from my own sister?"

The steward cleared his throat once again. "No, of course not."

"There's another, more practical question," Kai said, trying to defuse the sudden tension – and chill – in the air. "Even if we have the money, who can supply what we need on such short notice?"

Henrik leaned back in his chair, arms folded and one hand cradling his chin. He stroked his greying goatee thoughtfully. "The German envoy remains in town, but he'd haggle with his dying mother. The young couple from Corona didn't strike me as hard bargainers, but shipping that far, this late in the year?" He shook his head.

"Why look so far away?" Mayor Lucas wondered. "Kristensand has been a valuable partner in the past. You can practically see it from the castle gates, and the duke was a good friend to the late king."

"Neither of which seemed to mean enough to inspire attendance at Queen Elsa's coronation," Henrik replied, a little testily.

Despite the foreign minister's ire, Elsa's interest had been piqued. She had never visited Arendelle's closest neighbor, though her father had told her stories of the adventures in his youth with Duke Christian, exploring the countryside and making mischief. The then-Prince of Arendelle and Duke of Kristensand had practically grown up together. "Please, minister. That seems a petty reason to rule out a possible solution to our problems."

"They didn't even bother responding to the invitation. Do we want to repay such a slight with a lucrative trade agreement?"

The queen frowned. "I'd rather see the people of Arendelle fed and happy than worry about what might amount to nothing more than a letter lost in the mail." Compared to the actions of some who had actually attended her coronation, the entire premise of the argument seemed trivial. For all she knew, Duke Christian hadn't wanted to visit a place that held many fond memories of the friend he had lost. A part of her, the small and tenuous growth that had only just started to feel so many of the things she'd locked away before and since her parents' deaths, wondered if the duke had any stories to share, as her father once did. A part of her longed to go and ask him.

"Silence and absence are rarely heralds of good intentions," said Henrik.

Elsa felt her hands clench. His words felt far too much like a veiled insult. Worse, a veiled insult aimed at her. "Do you hold some kind of grudge against Kristensand, minister?"

"Holding grudges on your behalf is part of my job, Your Majesty," he replied with a flippant wave.

Something about his tone wore at the edges of her fraying patience. "I have more important things to worry about than trying to find slights in every action of my neighbors," Elsa said, frowning. Perhaps the memories of people who had actually tried to harm those she cared about were just too fresh to look on the world as a whole with such jaundiced eyes. "And consequences more significant than wounded pride."

"Pride may be all Arendelle has left considering how we intend to pay for this agreement."

In a flash, Elsa was on her feet. Palms planted flat on the table, crackling tendrils of ice were already creeping across the surface, but her glare was focused solely on Henrik, his tone of smug condescension still ringing in her ears. "I believe you have made your position perfectly clear, minister. Thank you for your input. You are excused." With a sharp wave, Elsa threw open the doors to the council chambers with a gust of frigid wind.

Glancing between the queen's fierce gaze and the plane of ice spreading across the table, Henrik stood, gathering as much dignity as he could muster through a stiff bow and a swift retreat.

After the door closed behind him, Elsa realized with a start that the surface of the council table had by now frozen into a single, solid sheet of ice. The remaining councilors were looking at her: Kai with sympathy, Bishop William with wary concern, and Sebastian with open fear, his massive ledger hastily removed from the table and now cradled to his chest like a shield.

"I… I'm sorry," Elsa stammered. It took two tries for her to successfully dispel the ice. She all but collapsed back into her chair.

"He was out of line," the captain of the guard muttered. Unlike the others, who seemed to be trying not to stare at the newly-thawed table, Mathias was glaring darkly at the door the foreign minister had retreated through.

"You must forgive him, Your Majesty," Bishop William said soothingly.

"I know," Elsa said. "I just… I'll find him later to apologize. I shouldn't have lost my temper. He's always been opinionated."

"For a long time, Minister Henrik has been the sole voice for Arendelle to the outside world," the bishop agreed. "I rather think he'd gotten used to it."

Elsa allowed those words to sink in. With a pang of memory, she recalled the two-week diplomatic tour her parents had departed on three years past. An ill-fated and disastrous journey, but for better or worse those duties had fallen to her now. She gathered up the scattered filaments of her calm demeanor, wrapping them back around herself like an old, threadbare cloak. "Maybe it's time that changed, then."

The bishop looked at her quizzically. "Your Majesty?"

"Our best option for securing supplies in the near future is across the border, with my father's old friend in Kristensand. The foreign minister has made his opposition to that plan quite plain, and in any case his expertise will be needed here, negotiating the trade agreements that will secure Arendelle's prosperity in the years to come."

She kept her voice level as she looked around the table to each man in turn. Running away would not fix this problem, any more than it had a week ago. The thought was reassuring and terrifying all at once. Elsa tried not to let the fear she felt show through. "It's only appropriate that I travel to Kristensand myself to arrange the purchase of what we need."

"Your Majesty, are you sure that's… wise?" Kai wondered, nervously running a hand through his thinning red hair. He cast a significant glance at the table.

"This is who I am, Kai." _I can't hide from that, any more than I can hide from my duties as queen or the world itself. I've learned that much, if nothing else._ "Our neighbors will have to accept it, just as we have."

"True enough." Mayor Lucas chuckled. "Who knows? The threat of being turned into blocks of ice might make quite a tool at the negotiating table."

Elsa's heart all but stopped. She stared at him aghast. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

The mayor's look of amusement curdled immediately. "Apologies, Your Majesty. A bad joke."

Ever the mediator, Bishop William gently nudged the conversation back on track. "If the decision has been made, I believe we all have work to do."

Not wanting to reveal just how badly the mayor's morbid humor had shaken her, Elsa turned her attention back to practicality. "Yes, of course. Sebastian, I will need the most recent accounting of my trust, to know how much I have to negotiate with."

"Of course, Your Majesty," the steward replied, his unhappiness evident but restrained.

"Kai, please work with Mayor Lucas to produce an inventory of what will need to be purchased for both the city and castle to supply us through next spring. Don't be conservative; if I'm going to do this, I don't want to end up shuttling back and forth from the duke's court like an absentminded maid going to the market."

"How do you plan to make the trip, Your Majesty?" the captain of the guard wondered. "With favorable winds, the _Brightwave_ can have you in Kristensand in less than a day."

"There's no need for that," Elsa replied, trying not to show just how much the thought of sea travel terrified her. She was unsure if she would ever again trust a ship to make a safe journey, however brief. "I'll travel by land, through the western pass."

The captain nodded thoughtfully. "It's a two day journey by the coast road, but that's not a problem. And I suppose if we leave the _Brightwave _here, we can have the holds cleared and ready to send her for our supplies on our return."

Elsa's brows knit. "'Our?'"

Captain Mathias gave her a frank look. "Of course, Your Majesty. Unless you had someone else in mind to command your escort. Four squads should be sufficient, I think."

Powers or not, Elsa had never been at ease in a crowd. Traveling in close quarters with that many people made her almost as anxious as the thought of a sea voyage. Not to mention the thought of going anywhere with fifty armed men in tow struck her as ridiculous. "I'm visiting Kristensand, captain, not conquering it. Surely a few guards would be enough."

The captain's mouth formed a thin line beneath his mustache. "For a trip into the city, perhaps. But you will be visiting a foreign nation, Your Majesty. You should travel well-protected."

"One squad, then," the queen said. Mathias' square jaw took on a firm set, but Elsa returned his stare, as unyielding as a glacier.

"Very well. One squad. Plus your carriage crew. And I must insist on commanding them personally."

Elsa thought he was still being rather overprotective, but she had to acknowledge that was very likely his job. She nodded.

"I'd also feel better if we had a guide for the western pass," the captain said. "It should remain open for a few more weeks yet, but I'd rather not take chances. Mayor Lucas, can you recommend any experienced mountaineers?"

Elsa blinked, and found herself speaking up before the mayor could reply. "Actually, I believe I know just the man we need."

* * *

...

* * *

"Kristoff!" The shout rose above the hum of background conversation. Ducking between a pair of carts piled high with bins of fresh-cut summer flowers, Princess Anna searched back and forth in vain for the mop of blond hair she had somehow lost in the mass.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet to see above the crowd milling through Arendelle's market square, Anna couldn't help the giddy thrill that ran through her at the sight of so many people. The only bad thing was how hard it made it to find who she was looking for. "Kristoff! Where'd you go?"

"Right here."

With a startled "Oh!" and a spinning jump, Anna whirled to see the target of her search standing right behind her. The reason why she hadn't been able to spot him was the mass of boxes and bags balanced precariously in his arms, stacked high enough that he had to lean awkwardly to see around them.

"It's hard enough to follow you when you aren't literally running from stall to stall, you know."

"I can't help it!" Anna protested. "There's so much to see! Is it always so busy?"

"Not usually. The people are happy to have the castle gates open again, I guess."

"They're not the only ones! Now come on," Anna insisted, scurrying behind Kristoff to give him a push in the direction of a dry goods cart she'd spotted on the other side of the square.

"Whoa!" Kristoff yelled, digging in his heels. Even with the weight of everything he was carrying, it barely slowed them down. "Maybe we should drop off what we've got so far at the sled?"

Anna stopped, pausing only a moment to consider. "Good idea, you can carry more that way. We still have a lot to find!"

"You do realize my sled has to actually move once it's loaded, right?"

"Don't be silly, we're still in the clear! I double-checked the capacity limits before we started." With a tug on his elbow, she re-aimed Kristoff towards the nearest edge of the square and resumed pushing.

"You really don't have to do this, you know."

"Nonsense. I promised you I'd replace the sled and everything in it. Elsa bought the sled as a thank you, the rest is up to me."

"You got me the new lute. The rest is just window dressing, really. If, you know, the sled had windows."

"Do they sell models like that? No, don't answer that, I don't want to have to ask Elsa for another sled already, she might think I broke this one. Anyway, the official ice master of Arendelle won't be riding around in a half-stocked sled on my watch," Anna insisted. "What would that say about us as a kingdom?"

"That we have some incredibly odd official titles?"

Anna stopped pushing long enough to dart around and give him her most stern glare. She wasn't quite sure what to make of her effort when he laughed.

"Don't get me wrong. I can't thank you enough for this. But, well," his smile turned hesitant, and he started shuffling in a way that had nothing to do with the act of balancing sixty pounds of boxes that weren't designed to be stacked together. "It just makes me a little uncomfortable."

Anna blinked. "Why?"

Kristoff's reply was just an inarticulate grumble as he started walking again. Anna could see Sven's antlers over the top of the thinning crowd. "Come on, Kristoff. What is it?" With recent events, it worried her when people wouldn't talk to her. She didn't like being coddled, and she _hated_ being ignored. She was a big girl.

He still hadn't answered her by the time they'd reached the sled. With a grunt, he dropped the pile of packages into the back of the sled. Sven was already sniffing around for anything of interest, so Kristoff dug for a particular bag and produced a fresh bundle of carrots. Anna got the distinct impression he was stalling.

"Kristoff?" she said. Quietly, hesitantly, like a soft knock on a long-closed door.

He sighed. "I can't repay you for all this, Anna. It's too much."

"Repay me?" Anna felt herself flush with confusion. "What…?"

Kristoff shook his head, harder than Sven trying to dislodge something from his antlers. "That's not the right word. Look, I've never had much. The trolls carry their lives in their moss, and for most of my life everything I owned could fit in the back of a sled. That's always been enough for me. I don't really know how to react to…" he waved at the pile of boxes. "This."

Anna felt her confusion soften into a smile. "I can understand that."

Finally, Kristoff turned to look at her again. "You can?"

"Sure. I spent years waiting for the gates to open up. Waiting to see my sister again. Dreaming of all the ways things would play out when it happened." She batted at a loose bit of gravel with one foot. "The day came, and I barely knew how to talk to her. I had to get to know her all over again." She shrugged. "Still got a long ways to go, really, but it's a process."

Kristoff was looking at her with an upraised eyebrow. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I'm saying that no matter what happens, whether you wanted something or not, dreamed of it or feared it, you can never know what to do until you deal with it. And that takes time."

Sven, who had started angling for another carrot from the bag still in Kristoff's hand, paused his pursuit long enough to nod sagely, shooting his master a knowing look. "You could have told me sooner," Kristoff muttered, giving the reindeer's nose a halfhearted swat. Sven's only reply was a snuffling chortle, followed by a satisfied crunch as he bit into another carrot. "So you're saying I'm just gonna have to get used to you, huh?"

"I'm afraid so," Anna replied, giving him her most grave and sympathetic expression. It, too, made him laugh. She must be doing something wrong with all these looks. Anna made a mental note to find a mirror and practice. "You're the boyfriend of a princess now, and you're gonna have to deal with it."

"Remind me not to do whatever I did to deserve that ever again."

She huffed playfully. "Of course. Run around saving a bunch of other princesses' lives and a girl might get jealous."

"Don't worry. I hardly know what to do with one of you," he said ruefully, turning to try to organize some of the boxes he had deposited in the sled.

"You're doing fine so far," Anna said, rising on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek before shuttling around to the other side of the sled to help sort the packages. "Now, let's get this straightened out so we have room for more!"

They set to work in companionable silence, Anna humming softly to herself and listening to the buzz of background conversation coming from the market. They were almost finished when an odd murmur caught Anna's attention as it moved through the square. An excited hum had entered the steady noise of the marketplace. Hopping into the back of the sled for a better view, she searched for the source of the disturbance.

There, along the edge of the crowd, heads were turning and the people were jockeying for position as if hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Or, as it turned out, someone.

"Elsa!" Anna called happily, bounding out of the back of the sled and sprinting towards the queen. The smile that appeared on her sister's porcelain face was bright and honest, but as she got closer Anna could see the stiffness of her shoulders and the faint beginnings of dark circles under her eyes.

"Anna," Elsa sighed with relief, hugging her sister as though they hadn't just seen each other at breakfast. "Are you enjoying the market?"

"I love it. You should take a break and join us!" Anna didn't fail to note the skittish glance Elsa cast towards the crowd surrounding them. They hung back at a respectful distance, but that didn't stop them from gaping and angling for a glimpse of the queen. Anna felt a surge of irritation: she got the distinct impression that most of the gawkers were expecting the queen to spontaneously explode into a snowstorm at any moment, or something equally spectacular.

"I'd love to," the queen said diplomatically. "But I'm afraid I'm actually here on business."

Linking one arm through her sister's, Anna gently guided them towards the sled and Kristoff, giving them some relief from the crowd as they approached the edge of the docks. "Really? Sounds important. It's not about that fruit cart we knocked over earlier, is it? Because that was totally my fault, I wasn't watching where Kristoff was going because I had just seen a new bridle that would have been absolutely perfect for Sven and—"

"No, I was looking for Kristoff, actually."

"—because it just seemed so tacky not to buy a matching pair and— wait, what?"

"I was hoping to speak to Kristoff," Elsa repeated. By now they were in earshot of the sled, and the ice harvester gave a start at the sound of his name.

"Uh, yes, Your Majesty?" he asked nervously. Anna felt for him; the poor guy didn't quite know what to make of the queen yet, and Anna wasn't sure whether it was the "queen" or "sister" or "ice powers" part that was throwing him off the most. It didn't help that Elsa had been too busy for more than a cursory introduction to this point. Anna had been meaning to invite him into the castle for dinner soon, which seemed the least they could do, and might untangle some of his nerves.

"Kristoff, I understand that you're a capable mountaineer, and I find myself in need of your services. Tell me, are you familiar with the western pass?"

"Yeah, it makes for a decent shortcut on the way up to Lake Solheim. It's not bad this time of year."

"Good. I'm making a trip to the neighboring duchy of Kristensand on a diplomatic mission, and would like you to accompany us as a guide."

"Uh…" Kristoff stammered. "Sure, I guess. If you think I'll be of help."

"I do. If you need anything, please be sure to see the steward at the castle. He's been instructed to provide you with funds for anything you require, as well as a stipend for your time."

"That's not… I mean, with the sled and…" Kristoff waved vaguely at the neatly-sorted bins of equipment and supplies within, struggling for words.

Anna was blinking furiously, trying to get her brain to catch up with the conversation. She stared at Elsa. "You're leaving?"

"Not right away. But soon, yes."

"Why do you have to go?" Anna could feel tears stinging at the edges of her eyes, without really understanding why she felt like crying.

"This is my responsibility, Anna," her sister said. She sounded so resolute and assured, but for some reason that didn't help. "It's something I have to do."

"How long will you be gone?"

"It's just a short trip," the queen explained. "A week. Two at most."

"I've heard that before," Anna whispered, as her jumbled thoughts finally crystallized in her head. She hated how small and forlorn the words sounded as they came rushing out, but a distant, long-buried portion of her was glad to know why she said them.

Elsa jerked back as though stung. She didn't seem angry or hurt, just speechless, as if the thought hadn't quite occurred to her. "Anna, I…"

"Let me come!" she blurted.

Elsa shifted nervously. "Don't be silly, Anna. One of us needs to stay here to keep an eye on things."

"Oh, no," Anna said, her frightened tears replaced by stubborn fury in the blink of an eye. "You're going to need to come up with a much better reason than that, or you're going to have to freeze me to keep me here!"

"Don't say that," Elsa gasped, her voice barely a whisper. Judging by the way she clutched her hands to her chest, Anna knew exactly what her sister was thinking about in that moment, and it only fueled her determination. Her sister needed her. No, more than that, they needed _each other_. And she wasn't going to let that door close again.

"I just got you back a week ago, Elsa. I don't care if it's a weekend trip or a world tour. I'm going with you!"

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

***A/N*** - Finally a bit from Anna's perspective. I hope she seems right, as I have a bit more trouble finding her voice for some reason. Which is just ironic, considering she's Kristen Bell as a CG redhead. The story will be told from the sisters' POV, as you can tell. Elsa's, primarily, but both of them are wonderful characters that will get plenty of chances to shine.

I was surprised (and pleased) by the response to the last chapter. Well, despite my promise, you got some more of the same here. Next chapter, however, I'll be justifying that adventure tag as we hit the road!


	4. Chapter Four: The Western Pass

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**The Western Pass**

On the dawn of the second week of her reign, the party escorting Queen Elsa of Arendelle on her diplomatic mission departed through the castle gates. A dozen mounted guards in green uniforms and tall hats bearing the royal crest rode in two columns, flanking a modest carriage teamed by four sturdy draft horses. Behind that was a sled pulled by a lone reindeer who looked far more pleased with himself than any animal had right to be. Citizens lined the streets to wish their queen a safe journey, cheering and waving to the carriage as it passed.

The mood inside the coach was somewhat less jubilant. Nearly a week of off-and-on protesting, arguing, cajoling, and pleading had not convinced Anna to remain behind, and Elsa had become convinced that, queen or no, there was at least one person in the kingdom she could trust to never do as she asked.

She wondered why that thought made her so happy.

"So," Anna said, once they had rolled beyond the city limits and she no longer had anyone to lean out the window and wave to, "Kristensand. Nice place?"

"So I'm told. It has a nickname you'd like: because it's on the west coast, they sometimes call it the Sunset City." Elsa wore a dress of silver velvet beneath a sky-blue traveling cloak with a sapphire clasp. In her lap was a small book, a brief history of Kristensand and its ruling family, lent to her by the foreign minister. He had presented it to her by way of an apology the evening before their departure. For her part, she had gifted him with a fountain pen embossed with the royal seal, and wished him luck in negotiations for Arendelle's trade agreements while she was away. She still felt guilty; not due to their argument per se, but how she had used her powers during it. Responding to disagreements that way was a path towards tyranny and ruin.

"Was Father really friends with the duke?" wondered Anna. Her dress was a dark forest green, and her russet traveling cloak was already tossed aside in an untidy heap on the bench of her side of the carriage.

"Yes. He'd tell me stories about all the trouble they got into as boys."

"Trouble?" Anna asked, eyes alight. "Like what?"

"Hunting trips through the forests, climbing mountains, exploring caves. And once…" she trailed off, momentarily lost in the memory of one tale, told in the wake of that terrible night when she'd accidentally struck Anna with her powers.

"Elsa?" Anna was looking at her, brows knit with concern.

She shook her head, giving her sister a reassuring smile. That time was done and gone; even the single blond streak that had adorned Anna's head for nearly fifteen years was faded into a thing of memory. "It was on one of his adventures with Duke Christian that Father found the trolls." She remembered that story better than most. She'd asked Father how he'd discovered the strange creatures who had known so much about her powers.

"They'd spent the day searching for gold in the streams of the eastern foothills and lost track of time. They tried to make their way home as night fell, but instead found themselves turned around in the dark forest, walking in circles. It had started to snow and they couldn't find any of the caves they were familiar with for shelter, but they wandered into a clearing filled with steam vents, which they used to stay warm. When they heard the wolves howling, they decided to build a fire in the stone circle of the clearing, one big enough to last the night. When they started rolling some stones into place to ring the fire pit, the stones started talking."

Anna laughed. "That must have been a surprise."

"It was. Father said that they were 'old enough to be startled by talking rocks, but young enough not to run away screaming.'"

"Lucky for them. And us, if you think about it."

"I suppose so. Anyway, they stayed the night with the trolls, who passed the time by telling them stories, showing off with magic, and reading their fortunes."

"And singing, no doubt."

"I wouldn't put it past them. From what Father said, the magic show was the highlight of the evening, because the stories made even less sense than the fortune telling. But he was always grateful for their help, and promised to keep their home secret and safe."

"I wonder why Duke Christian never came to visit, if he and Father were such old friends."

"I'm not sure. The foreign minister was annoyed that the duke missed my coronation, but it's not like he'd been a regular visitor."

"Maybe he and Father had a fight," Anna said. Her mouth twisted into a frown. "I hope he's not still angry. That wouldn't be good."

"I don't think that's it," Elsa said. She held up the booklet. "I glanced through the genealogy. Do you remember Aunt Helena?"

Anna's face scrunched up in concentration. "Father's sister?"

"Stepsister, actually. She was a daughter of grandfather's second wife."

"Oh, that one. I don't remember her, but I've seen her picture in the Hall of Portraits. She was pretty."

"She married the duke, but died in an accident. You were two, I had just turned five."

"You think they stopped speaking after she died?" Anna frowned. "That's not just worse, it's sad, too."

"It's not all bad," Elsa said, trying to sound cheerful. "It turns out we have three cousins."

Anna brightened immediately. "Really?"

"Really. Two boys, Uriel and Gabriel, and a girl, Seraphim. I'm sure they'll introduce us when we arrive."

"Wait," Anna said, her face scrunching in concentration. "If Aunt Helena was actually Father's stepsister, doesn't that make her our step-aunt? And if she's our step-aunt, wouldn't that make them step-cousins?"

Elsa laughed, smiling fondly at her sister's consternation. "It doesn't quite work that way."

"I'll take your word for it. You always were better at this stuff."

That was all too true. Whenever her room had become too claustrophobic to tolerate any longer, Elsa had sought refuge in the tall, quiet shelves of the castle library. Adventure, romance, and history had given wonder to a life that would have been suffocated without them. Geography and biology let her explore the world without ever having to leave the safety of the castle.

Mathematics and geometry had held a special charm to her, though, above and beyond the rest. Systems and equations of an inviolable certainty held great appeal to one cursed with an inexplicable, uncontrollable power. The concept of symmetry had fascinated her most of all, for just like the snowflakes borne of a winter storm, her powers too had been bound into those infinite permutations of mirror perfection. The occasional beauty of her curse had given her some small solace.

The sisters lapsed into a comfortable silence, livened by the creaking of the carriage wheels and the rhythmic chorus of hoofbeats from their escort. They made good time for most of the first day, as the coast road climbed steadily into the mountains west of Arendelle. The view outside the windows of the coach transitioned from bare headland to tended timber woods of oak and maple, and finally into thick forest of pine and fir. Their progress slowed as the road grew steadily rougher with disuse, until finally Captain Mathias called a halt just before sundown.

"We're not far from the pass," Kristoff informed them as they made camp in a small clearing beside the road. "It gets pretty rough from here, though."

"Will we have any trouble with the carriage?" the captain wondered.

"I don't think so," the ice harvester replied, as he tied Sven's reins to a tree near the lines that hobbled the carriage team and the guards' mounts. "It's clear, just steep near the pass. If the weather holds, it shouldn't be a problem for these guys," he concluded, nodding at the draft horses, which were munching contentedly on their feed.

The captain seemed satisfied by that, and marched off to check on camp preparations and set the watches. While Anna wandered away down the line of horses, scratching at noses and making up progressively more ostentatious nicknames for each animal in turn, Elsa posed a question of her own to Kristoff. "So. You and Anna?"

The poor boy tensed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was standing. "Uh…"

Elsa smirked, folding her arms and leaning against the low branch Sven was currently tethered to. It was hardly a regal posture, but Elsa rationalized that she was not a queen at the moment, merely a big sister. "Very eloquent. But not much of an answer."

Kristoff sighed heavily, hanging his head. The reindeer repaid that defeatist gesture with a generous lick to the face, which set Kristoff sputtering and Elsa giggling. The young man gave his oldest friend a murderous glare, but the whole thing did serve to break the tension. "I like her. Quite a bit, really. Assuming that's what you meant by your question."

"Partly. You have my personal gratitude for what happened during… well, I'll call it my winter, because that's what it was. Anna hasn't told me the whole story yet, but I have gathered that you were a help to her when she asked, and loyal when she needed it most. Words – or a sled, for that matter – won't express how thankful I am for that."

"I was in the right place at the right time. You probably know that Anna can be… insistent when she wants something."

"Yes. And not always to her benefit," Elsa said, a little sadly.

"She deserved better than that," Kristoff growled. But as quickly as it appeared, his anger turned to guilt. "She deserves better than me, too, really."

"I don't know. I can think of far worse things to be than an honest man, and more than one example of nobility behaving with anything but."

"Look… Your Majesty…" Kristoff said, abruptly remembering he was addressing the queen, "I can't promise you anything. I'm still getting used to things like talking… to people. And queens. But I can tell you that I will never hurt her. Or let anyone else hurt her, either."

"Then we have something in common. And an understanding, I think," Elsa said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just remember who her big sister is, and you'll be fine." With one last touch against his arm, she walked away. The yelp was clearly audible when Kristoff noticed the frozen palm print on his jacket, and Elsa couldn't hide her grin as she walked towards the fire at the center of camp, and the smell of dinner being served.

* * *

...

* * *

The second day of their journey dawned clear and bright, with a chill on the air that had most of the party shivering as they went about the business of breaking camp. Even in midsummer, the wind this high in the mountains was brisk on the best of days.

Elsa was helping the grooms reload the carriage, passing up bedrolls and tent poles bundled in canvas to be tied down on the coach's roof. Anna shuffled up to her with stiff little strides, wrapped tightly in her cloak but shivering even so. "How c-can you s-stand this c-cold?" she wondered, teeth chattering.

Elsa smiled, reaching out to rub her bare hands briskly up and down her sister's arms. "Oh, I don't know. Just lucky, I guess." Anna's reply to that was a scowl so fierce that Elsa couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry, it will be better once the sun's been up for a bit."

The crunch of steps across the brittle underbrush drew their attention. One of the guards approached, bearing a pitcher in one hand and several pewter mugs in the other. Whatever was in the pitcher was steaming, and the sharp scent of apples and cinnamon filled the air. "You look cold, Your Highness. I've mulled some cider, if you'd like a glass."

"Y-you're a l-lifesaver," Anna gasped, nodding eagerly and taking a deep breath of the hearty scents coming from the pitcher. The guard deftly filled a mug for her, which she cradled in both gloved hands and sipped eagerly. "It's wonderful, thank you."

The man turned to Elsa, cheeks ruddy from the chill. He was young, probably near her own age, and new to the guard, fresh-faced and eager to please. "Would you like some, Your Majesty? It will warm you for the road. N-not that you n-need it, of course," he stammered.

"I'd like that, thank you," she said. Her eyes narrowed fractionally as she searched her memory. "Liam, isn't it?"

His eyes went wide, and his cheeks got even redder, which she hadn't thought possible. With a mute nod, he handed her a mug before heading to offer some to the grooms, stumbling stiff-legged in the cold.

Elsa gasped with surprise, almost spilling some of her cider, at the solid impact of Anna bumping her hip-to-hip. She frowned at her sister, who merely repaid the look with an odd waggle of her eyebrows. "What?"

"You have an admirer."

"What are you talking about? He's probably terrified of me." _Like everyone else. _She tried to hide her frown by taking a sip of cider. It really was quite good.

"Nuh-uh. Didn't you see the grin on his face when you remembered his name? I'm pretty sure you made his year."

"Don't be silly."

"If you say so, Your Majesty," Anna sing-songed, strolling off towards Kristoff's sled, cold all but forgotten.

They were underway again within the hour. The press of the evergreen forest receded as they approached the western pass, giving way to bare stone with only a handful of stunted shrubs clinging stubbornly to the cracks. The coach tilted ominously as the grade grew steeper, the road aiming for a gap between two imposing peaks of bare granite. The horses whined and snorted with frustration as the footing grew precarious. They were fortunate that the sun was high in the sky, driving away the ice that might otherwise have made the bare stone treacherous.

Elsa grit her teeth, managing just the occasional glance out the windows. Heights didn't faze her, but she had never liked riding in the carriage. Across from her, Anna was fearless, all but leaning out the door to watch their progress. "This is amazing! I've never seen the air so clear." She gasped. "I can see Arendelle!"

That brought Elsa to her window, and she drew enough courage from her sister's enthusiasm to risk putting her head far enough outside the window and look back the way they had come. Just as Anna said, far in the distance, a mere speck on the horizon, was the small cliff-ringed cove that sheltered their home.

"It looks so small," Elsa breathed.

"Like a little toy within a snow globe," Anna agreed.

"One that holds everyone we know, and every place we've been. It makes you feel… small, doesn't it?"

"Maybe a little," Anna said doubtfully. "It really makes me wonder what else is out there, though."

Their view of the city abruptly vanished, along with the sunlight, behind a wall of sheer rock. Cold and grey in the gloom, it rose up and up and up some more, as though it strained to pierce the sky itself. Just as quickly as it had vanished, the sun reappeared with an intensity that made Elsa flinch as her eyes readjusted. She turned to look ahead, and felt her eyes go wide as her breath was stolen away.

The road vanished ahead of them into a distant mass of trees, but from her vantage Elsa could see above the forest and into the lands beyond. A vast plain stretched out before them, gold and green and brown and more open than anything than she'd seen save the ocean itself. Rolling hills rose around the glittering tracks of streams and rivers. The pale brown veins of roads and paths connected the telltale rows of fields that covered the countryside like the patterned squares of a quilt. The shadows from the wispy clouds above them tracked lazily across the valley.

"Wow," said Anna.

"Yeah," Elsa agreed.

Further in the distance along the coast, she could just barely make out the cluster of black-tiled roofs that marked the city of Kristensand. She could only make out a few individual buildings, like the spire of the church and the rays of the docks that reached out like fingers into the ocean. The white sails of ships both coming and going stood out like snowflakes against the pure blue of the water. Beyond the city, on a bluff overlooking the docks, she could see the castle that stood sentinel over the city.

Captain Mathias brought his horse alongside them, expertly holding station with the coach's uneven pace. "We should reach the city in a few hours, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Captain," Elsa said, ducking back inside the carriage. She caught her breath, closing her eyes to process and absorb the idyllic sights. She had never really considered the variety that the world had to offer, as some part of her had never believed she'd leave Arendelle. The pictures and paintings she knew of distant lands had not quite prepared her for reality of seeing a place other than her home with her own two eyes.

The road descended from the western pass, and the sun vanished once more behind a canopy of leaves as they followed the coast road through the forest that marked the duchy's borders. The carriage rattled on for nearly an hour, and somewhere along the way Elsa nodded off, lulled by the rhythm of the movement and steady clip-clop of hooves on the gravel of the road.

She was awakened by the glare of the midday sun as they emerged from the woodland. She blinked away the cobwebs and glanced out the window to check their progress. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment she wondered if she was dreaming.

Distance had muddled her earlier vantage, and a closer look at the hills and plains inspired more worry than wonder. The rolling grasslands that had seemed a vibrant mix of green and gold from afar were a troubling shade of golden brown up close. The only green to be found was fitfully holding out near the roots. The shrubs and hedges spied from afar proved thin and wilting, their leaves drooping as though the sunlight itself was a weight upon them. Creeks and rivers were edged by cracked mud, and in some places nearly dry. The neat rows of crops were stunted and overgrown, weeds in places topping even the stalks of corn.

"Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?" Anna asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

"I don't think so," Elsa replied, unable to mask her concern.

"This is kinda creepy. I'm no expert, but farms aren't supposed to look like that, are they?"

"No," Elsa breathed, her worry turning to despair. She was coming here to ask these people to help Arendelle, but suddenly she wondered if the duchy was even capable of feeding itself in these conditions. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Elsa wondered if they hadn't just stumbled upon the reason for the duke's absence from her coronation.

Anna had leaned out of the carriage again for a better look around, but she ducked back inside after just a few seconds. She was blinking furiously, coughing and swatting at her face and arms, sending out puffs of brown dust. Outside the shade of the trees, the sun beat down on the carriage with savagery. The air inside was fast becoming uncomfortably hot. Anna had already discarded her cloak, and was trying to fan herself with a hand. "Ugh. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think we might have just found someplace that could use a little snow in summer."

Elsa glanced doubtfully at her hands, fingers slowly flexing open and closed. "I'm not sure if that would work," she said, thinking of how her conjured ice and snow had vanished when she dispelled the white blanket that had covered Arendelle in her winter. Her ice _could_ melt: Olaf was still around thanks to constant replenishment from his flurry, and she'd had to call forth a steady snow to keep up the skating rink she'd made in the celebration of summer's return. That was one thing. Trying to water crops and restore rivers? That was another.

Despite the new measure of control Elsa was slowly teasing out, there was too much uncertainty in her heart over how her powers worked. And that was before considering if she was even capable of summoning another winter. She hadn't actually meant to bring on the first one, after all.

Outside the carriage, she heard the captain call a halt. The carriage rolled to a stop, and without waiting for a word otherwise, Elsa threw open the door and climbed out. "What is it, Captain?"

Mathias wheeled his horse in place beside her, standing in his stirrups and holding up one hand to shield his eyes from the raging sun. Elsa followed his gaze, and saw the plume of dust shrouding the road before them. It was close, and getting closer, billowing out to shroud their view of the city, less than a mile distant.

"Riders, Your Majesty. At least twenty," he said, growling out the number. "You may want to return to the carriage."

His worry was infectious, but Elsa reminded herself that they were in the lands of a man she hoped was a friend. She would not color the first impressions of either side with mistrust. "No, Captain. Remain calm. Perhaps they're just coming to welcome us." The captain gave her a look that spoke volumes of just how likely he thought that to be, but said nothing and lowered himself back into the saddle.

The approaching party began to take shape amidst the dust. Elsa couldn't make out a firm number, but the captain's estimate looked more likely to be proved low than the other way around. Anna disembarked from the carriage and stood beside her, taking hold of one of Elsa's arms. She tried to give her little sister a reassuring smile, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt.

The faint, arid breeze carried the indistinct bark of an order to their ears, and the riders slowed to a stop. Three of them broke off from the group to continue their approach, stopping a stone's throw from the lead rider of the Arendelle column, their horses panting furiously in the heat. "Who goes there?" one of the riders shouted. It was hardly a happy welcome, but it wasn't a threat, either. That was something.

Captain Mathias sidled his horse onto the berm of the road, holding his right hand up, palm open, his left still gripping the reins. The three Kristensand riders shared a glance and approached at a trot, stopping within a more conversational distance, and the captain slowly lowered his hand. "We are the escort for Queen Elsa of Arendelle and her sister Princess Anna, come in peace to call upon Kristensand and Duke Christian as his friends and neighbors."

The three riders shared another look. "We welcome the royal family of Arendelle to our borders," one of the riders said, removing his cap and bringing his horse forward a few more paces. His gaze swept across them, finding and fixing upon Elsa. "We will escort you to the city, where an audience may be arranged."

The captain's eyes narrowed. With a faint twitch of his legs, his mount took one step and then another, placing him between Elsa and the rider. "And if we decline?"

"Then you will know the fortune that falls upon trespassers to sovereign soil of the Kingdom of Kristensand, and learn the fate of those who oppose Catalina, Queen Regent of the Sunset City."

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***A/N*** - It was mentioned in a couple reviews, so I'll say it: no, they did not leave Olaf in charge back in Arendelle. The queen's council will keep an eye on things, just as they did during Elsa's minority. Olaf's a fun character, and his existence gives me some wonderful ideas about Elsa's powers and how they work, but I haven't found a place for him yet.


	5. Chapter Five: The Two Queens

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**The Two Queens**

"Uh… who's Catalina?" In the dead quiet of the standoff, Anna's whisper carried further than she meant it to. What was supposed to be a quick query to Elsa had Anna on the receiving end of a withering glare from the leader of the welcome wagon. Which wasn't feeling particularly welcoming at the moment, she had to say.

"The Queen Regent of Kristensand," the rider repeated, his voice frosty enough to give Elsa's magic a run for its money. Anna shrank back, ducking behind her sister's shoulder.

Elsa stepped forward, gently disentangling herself from Anna's grasp. The princess watched her assume an air of regal authority, changing in the span of that single step. But however impressive her new demeanor might be to a stranger, Anna wasn't fooled. All she could see was Elsa playing the part of a queen, donning a suit of brittle armor. Anna realized that she had witnessed this act before, at the party after the coronation.

"May I have your name?" the queen asked.

The man's mount snorted and stamped as he gazed back for a long moment. "Ulbrecht, Commander of the Queen's Guard."

"Thank you, Commander. You must excuse our manners, we've had a long journey."

Eager to play along, Anna faked the largest yawn she could, unhinging her jaw and fanning herself theatrically as she stared at Ulbrecht. The man merely refreshed his scowl. Anna decided she liked it a lot better when everyone was laughing at her attempts to be serious.

"You may escort us into the city," Elsa said, with a respectful nod. "Captain Mathias, if you please." Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed back into the carriage.

Anna could tell how hard Elsa was trying to _look_ like she wasn't fleeing, and scurried eagerly in after her. "Elsa, what's going on?"

As the carriage door closed and a whip cracked to spur the horses back into motion, the regal mask vanished entirely from her sister's face, replaced by a look of hopeless confusion. "I don't know!"

"Is there anything in your little book about a Catalina?"

"No! It's two years old, but I'd remember the name if I'd seen it. I have no idea who she could be."

Anna glanced outside. They were entering the city limits, and the buildings of Kristensand proved to be just as dilapidated as the surrounding countryside. Peeling paint and disheveled gardens were the order of the day, a jarring contrast to Arendelle's tidy, well-kept homes. "I don't like this place," she decided.

"We don't have a lot of options at the moment," Elsa replied, which didn't reassure Anna in the least. "We'll just have to meet this Queen Catalina and hope she's willing to work with us."

"You really think we still have a chance to make the deal you're looking for? This place looks like it'll blow away before we leave."

"I have to hope so, Anna. The people back home are counting on me to make this work."

Anna frowned. "They may know you have magic, but they don't expect you to make miracles." Even as she said it, she wasn't sure how true the statement was. Anna recalled the looks on the peoples' faces when Elsa had shown up in the market square. One part awe, ten parts creepy anticipation. It still made her shudder, and she hoped that the townsfolk would eventually adjust the way the castle staff had. They'd done a much better job of at least pretending business as usual.

The carriage was slowing. The view through the windows showed them approaching a large building in what looked like the town square. The wheels rattled to a stop on the cobblestones, and Anna climbed out, taking a good look around. The buildings here were at least decently kept, without the shabby air of neglect the rest of the town held. They were parked in front of a two-story meeting hall, with wide double-doors at the top of a set of granite stairs.

Elsa had followed her out, and the sisters shared a look. "Not exactly the Arendelle palace," Anna muttered. "Why didn't they take us to the castle?"

Commander Ulbrecht rode up beside them before Elsa could reply, vaulting off his horse and handing it off to a squire in a single practiced motion. "I sent a rider ahead. Her Majesty is expecting you, Queen Elsa."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Your guards can accompany you inside if you wish. The coach crew and that groom with the reindeer can wait outside with your carriage."

"Groom?" Anna bristled. "I'll have you know that is the official Ice Master of Arendelle!"

"I'm sure he's very good at that," Ulbrecht said dryly. "But as you will find no ice inside Her Majesty's audience hall, he can remain here."

"It's okay, Anna," Elsa soothed. "Kristoff and Sven will be fine out here."

Anna folded her arms in a huff, glowering at Ulbrecht. "Bet they wouldn't like the place anyway."

"Lead the way, please, Commander."

Ulbrecht gave Elsa a stiff nod that was almost courteous. "Follow me."

Anna stuck as close to her sister as she could without latching on to her arm again. She was somewhat reassured when the dozen men of the Arendelle guard fell in around them, rich green uniforms standing out starkly in a city whose color palette seemed to consist solely of sun-baked whitewash, sandy brown, or unfinished wood.

They marched inside, finding an interior that appeared to have undergone a recent and very hasty renovation. The walls were red, but in a single uneven coat above the original whitewash that left them an ugly range of shades from pink to almost orange. The building was constructed around a single large, central room, and spots of cleaner stone beneath their feet seemed to mark where benches or tables had recently been removed. Tapestries were hung haphazardly, covering some of the windows and other random furnishings. Three banners, gold with a red sigil of a setting sun, were placed side-by-side but couldn't quite hide the entirety of a large blackboard, and Anna wondered if the place might have once served as a schoolhouse.

The most obvious addition by far was at the back of the main room. A platform had been raised, so hastily assembled that Anna could spot ill-fit boards and half-hammered nails even from the far side of the hall. The smell of fresh lacquer became pungent as they approached.

The only feature the platform was designed to support was a single chair, perched front and center. Since it matched none of the other visible furniture, Anna would have guessed they'd dragged it out of storage somewhere, but the wood was well-kept and shone with polish, except for one spot at the corner of the tall, rounded back that looked like it had been charred. Other than that one blemish, it was intricately carved from expensive wood. The rounded back formed the relief of a sun, and rays ran out in every direction. It would have been beautiful, had it not been so depressingly out of place in such a sad mockery of a throne room.

The woman sitting in the chair was the most regal element of the whole scene. Past middle-age but still graced with great beauty, she had skin of light bronze and hair like strands of chocolate. Her eyes were a brown so light they looked almost yellow. Perhaps that was just an effect of her dress, which was a shimmering river of golden cloth, slashed by cuts of rich carmine fabric in the corset, sleeves, and hemline.

Ulbrecht waved them to a halt, stepping forward to provide introductions. "Your Majesty, I present Queen Elsa and Princess Anna of Arendelle."

A crowd was gathering along the walls, filtering in from side rooms and outside the building in small knots of twos and threes. Anna shifted nervously, feeling like an exhibit at a zoo the guests were filing in to see.

It was a long moment before the woman above them spoke, and she – very pointedly, it seemed to Anna – did not rise to greet them. "I am Queen Catalina," she said at last, her voice tinged with a rich, melodic accent much like that of the Spanish representative at Elsa's coronation. "Welcome to Kristensand. I hope your journey here was agreeable."

"Until the tour guide showed up," Anna muttered, with a look at Ulbrecht. She froze, realizing that her voice had carried. Again.

To her relief, the queen laughed. A full, pleasant sound, it echoed in the wide open spaces of the hall. "You must forgive Ulbrecht. He takes his duties seriously, but that is what makes him so very good at what he does."

"Queen Catalina, we've come to ask for your help," Elsa spoke up. "Arendelle finds itself in need of supplies for the coming winter, and I come with hope of forming a trade agreement that can benefit both of us, as Your Majesty's neighbors." Once again she was the picture of fragile nobility, but the act was all the more obvious to Anna next to Catalina's comfortable serenity.

It seemed to Anna that Catalina noticed that, too. She studied Elsa for a long moment, appraising her with those unnerving yellow eyes narrowed ever so faintly. Long seconds passed, and then Catalina's expression changed. "Please, Queen Elsa. No 'majesties' between us," she said kindly. "We are both equals, and you are my guest."

"Thank you, Your M—Queen Catalina."

"No need to thank me. I only hope you will repay my hospitality by being who you say you are."

Anna frowned. From the corner of her eye, she could see Elsa blinking in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Catalina held up both hands apologetically. "Forgive me, that was too blunt. Allow me to explain. The princesses of Arendelle are known far and wide to have been in seclusion within their castle for years. The gates opened mere days ago for the queen's coronation, and troubling rumors travel on the wind, stories we can scarcely believe about our closest neighbor. And now here you stand in my humble court, claiming to be that same queen we've heard so much about?"

Captain Mathias stepped forward, face reddening. "You dare question Her Majesty's honesty? Her legitimacy?"

Catalina shrank back from the captain's outrage, waving her hands emphatically. The gesture struck Anna as rather overdone, but she wasn't the one with an angry guard captain yelling at her.

"No, not at all. But please," Catalina said, turning back to Elsa, "put yourself in my position. No one knows you by sight, and the one heirloom we might recognize, your crown, is nowhere to be seen. You appear with a mere dozen guards, hardly a fit escort for a queen. Your sister - your sole heir - is traveling at your side, which would leave your kingdom's throne at terrible risk. And the commander tells me that you were unaware of the passing of King Christian, my dear husband. Any one of these I might overlook, but all together?"

Anna would have gladly launched into a furious tirade in response to that litany of ridiculous accusations, but she knew rotten ice when she was standing on it. Cursing the queen's stupidity would probably not be very helpful at this particular instant. Elsa was the calm one, the smart one, the one who could take apart those arguments piece by piece and find out what was going on around here.

Elsa, who was staring at the queen, speechless. "I… I don't…"

"The truth should be easy to prove," Queen Catalina went on. "Simply show me some token, something only the Queen of Arendelle would be capable of, and put my fears to rest."

That particular choice of words struck Anna as odd, but Elsa had jerked upright as if shocked, her turquoise eyes wide. "Something only I can do…" she breathed. Her eyes drifted shut.

In the still air of the audience chamber, a breeze stirred. Anna felt the skin of her calves prickle as a frigid draft rustled her skirt, and she took an involuntary step back. The melodic tinkling of ice flitted through the silence of the hall, and a single startled gasp rang out from somewhere behind them.

Anna had been dumbstruck by her sister's new appearance when she'd first arrived at the north mountain. The transformation was even more spectacular to witness, which she hadn't thought possible. The hem of Elsa's skirt was crystallizing, a sparkling pattern of snowflakes climbing the fabric, which was freezing away into dust and being replaced by the ice as it spread. Threads of frost, incredibly fine and delicate, wove together as a new dress formed. Shifting in color from the blue-green of the sea, to the blue of a clear winter sky, to the near translucence of fresh ice, it shimmered as it caught the light. The magic kept climbing, dancing across her arms and frosting even her makeup, giving Elsa's complexion a nearly ethereal glow. Even her hair changed, a dozen silvery snowflakes springing to life within the twisting strands of the braid. With a final flourish, a swirling wind coalesced into a transparent cape that flowed behind her like a plane of rippling ice.

With a deep sigh, Elsa opened her eyes and looked down. Anna watched her take in her appearance, and the smile that slowly spread across Elsa's face was the most contented expression Anna had ever seen her wear. Elsa's entire bearing had changed, but this wasn't the mask of nobility she had donned like a pair of ill-fitting boots. Elsa could _act_ like the Queen of Arendelle. But Elsa _was_ the Snow Queen… and Anna had never seen anything so breathtaking.

The magic of the moment shattered with a shout.

"Sorceress!"

"Witch! She's a witch!"

"Monster!"

The crowd that had gathered in the audience chamber went from stunned silence to seething anger in the blink of an eye. Screams and slamming doors rang out as people fled the hall. Shouts and curses seared the air. In an instant, Elsa's rediscovered confidence vanished, crumbling before Anna's very eyes. Her sister flinched at every furious shout, drawing in on herself more with every hurtful word. "No… please… Not again…" she whispered, hugging herself and cringing nearly to her knees, voice all but inaudible among the bile that flooded around them. Anna was at her side at once, wrapping her arms around Elsa's shoulders, as if she could physically shield her from the raw, undeserved hatred she had unwittingly summoned.

"_SILENCE!_"

The commanding cry cut through the ruckus like the snap of a crossbow. A hush swept through the chamber, and standing before her throne upon the platform Queen Catalina glared out at the crowd, her eyes alight with a ferocious presence that demanded attention and obedience. "Has Kristensand fallen so far, to rage like a mob at a guest within our halls? Before you stands Queen Elsa of Arendelle, proven beyond question. I place her and her company under my personal protection. Commander Ulbrecht, clear the hall!"

"Guardsmen!" the commander barked. A dozen men in golden uniforms appeared at his side, rayed half-circles of setting suns sewn upon their chests in burgundy thread. The crowd took the hint, and began streaming out as fast as the exits would admit them. The noise and chaos slowly faded, and within minutes the only people apart from the Arendelle delegation left in the hall were Queen Catalina and her guards.

Catalina was gliding down the steps of her platform, looking both furious and apologetic as she approached. "See that her men outside are not disturbed," she ordered the nearest guard. He bowed swiftly and jogged towards the exit. "Forgive me, Queen Elsa. That was not what I had in mind."

Elsa was still too upset to reply, but Anna was too furious to stay quiet. "What do you mean it's 'not what you had in mind'? What did you expect to happen when you asked her to show off her powers like that?!"

"I said nothing of her powers," Catalina replied calmly. "Beyond unverified stories and wild rumors, I truly had no reason to believe she _had_ them."

Anna's anger sputtered. "Then what…?"

"Really, don't you travel with the royal seal? Official documents, with the signatures of some of your councilors we'd know? I wasn't asking for much, just some small proof." She smirked a bit. "Though, I must admit, your choice was rather impressive, if ill-considered. None of the rumors quite captured your beauty."

Elsa was rising unsteadily back to her feet. "I'm sorry," she muttered.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Catalina assured her. "You had no way of knowing how my people would react. I can't excuse their behavior, but I can hardly blame them for it, either. There has been little cause for joy in Kristensand for some time."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"The kingdom is unsettled. Commander Ulbrecht tells me you were unaware of my husband's death, or even of his ascension to the rank of king. That was six months ago, four months before the onset of the sudden fever that took his life. We'd barely had time to mourn his passing before the fire."

"Fire?" Elsa whispered, still sounding shaken.

"You might have wondered why I was hosting you in the town's meeting hall," Catalina ventured.

"And why it looks like it was decorated by finger painters," grumbled Anna.

"That, too, yes," the queen said dryly. "We are not here by choice. Just over a week ago, a fire gutted the castle and royal apartments. The stone walls you may have seen from a distance are practically all that still stands."

"I'm so sorry," Elsa said. She looked more broken up about the news than Catalina did, but Anna wouldn't judge her for that. Elsa had only just started allowing herself to feel anything at all, as she understood it.

"That is not the worst of it. Your Majesty, Your Highness, I fear I have terrible news of your cousins, the children from my husband's first marriage."

"Step-cousins," Anna corrected automatically.

Catalina ignored that. "Prince Gabriel was killed in the fire. Princess Seraphim survived, but was hurt terribly. The doctors tell me her lungs may have been burned by the smoke. Worst of all, Prince Uriel has fled the city. We fear he was… responsible for the fire."

"Responsible?" Elsa gasped. "What do you mean?"

Catalina shifted uncomfortably; it was the most un-queenly gesture Anna could recall her making. "I'm afraid the answer to that question leads me back to why the crowd responded so drastically to your little display," the queen said, waving at Elsa's gown of ice. "I trust you noticed the state of the countryside when you arrived. Kristensand is in the grips of a ferocious drought."

"What does a drought have to do with Elsa's magic? Or Prince Uriel?" Anna demanded.

"It is no normal drought," Queen Catalina explained. "Just as Arendelle so recently experienced a most unseasonable winter, Kristensand now suffers from a raging, magical summer. One we fear was summoned by Prince Uriel."

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***A/N*** - Merry Christmas to all my readers! Sorry the chapter is so late, FFnet appears to have been read-only for most of the day.

If I'm not on Santa's naughty list, I'll ask for a movie adaptation where Catalina will be played by Catherine Zeta-Jones.


	6. Chapter Six: Ice and Fire

***A/N* - **T rating becomes justified in this chapter. Be warned, portions are decidedly NSFD (Not Safe For Disney).**  
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**CHAPTER SIX**

**Ice and Fire**

There were no words to describe the jumble of emotions that rushed through Elsa as she took in Queen Catalina's statement. Drought. Magic. An eternal summer. Fire. Death. She found herself nearly lost in the terrifying paths her own life might have taken had just a few simple things not gone differently. Two weeks ago, some strangers might have been having a conversation not at all dissimilar to this one about her.

"Queen Elsa," Catalina said, jarring her back into the present. "You said you came to us hoping to procure supplies for Arendelle."

"That's right," replied Elsa, trying to keep her voice level. "Food, mostly. But with this… I can't possibly ask you for help with what's happened here."

"On the contrary," the Queen of Kristensand countered, an eager smile spreading across her face. "Your appearance might be the stroke of fate we've been hoping for."

"What do you mean?"

"It's possible that Prince Uriel's curse is related to your own. If you have learned to control it, maybe he can, too."

"Elsa's not cursed," Anna said indignantly. "She was born this way, and she's worked hard to control her powers."

"No, Anna, she's right." Again her mind flashed with terrible memories. The fjord locked in by ice. Arendelle nearly lost beneath a blanket of white. Anna, frozen solid. She shook her head. "This is no gift. No blessing. But I have no idea how to help someone else control their powers. I've barely learned any restraint of my own. If his powers are fire, they could be completely different from mine."

"I don't know exactly what he can do," Catalina confessed. "But this may be Kristensand's best chance… just as Kristensand might be Arendelle's."

Doubt filled her heart, but there was too much truth to that statement for Elsa to argue. Still, she hesitated. It had nearly cost Anna's life to learn how to counter her own powers. What did she know of this place, this boy – a cousin but no less a stranger for that – or his curse? In his place, what would she have done? How dangerous might she have become if Anna had truly died?

"Please, Queen Elsa," Catalina pleaded. "If nothing else, think of your own people. What if this summer spreads? What if you don't even try, and the sun reaches out to sear Arendelle and her people as it has Kristensand?"

Elsa flinched. _I thought I had learned that running away won't fix anything_. _I've already forgotten the most important lesson of my life._ She sighed, summoning what resolve she could, trying desperately to fight away the fear. Fear was her enemy_._ "What can I do?"

Catalina smiled, a glimmer in her golden eyes. "We believe the prince has fled to a canyon not far from the city, an old quarry. He's hidden from us, but you are a stranger to him. Family, after a fashion. You may be able to draw him out. Speak to him, help him try to understand and control his magic, as you have."

"Wait a second," Anna said suspiciously. "What if the prince isn't doing this on accident? What if he's gone all fire-crazy on purpose? Elsa could get hurt!"

"I've known the poor boy less than two years, and this was all kept secret from me until recently," Catalina admitted. "He's never hurt anyone intentionally that I know of, so I pray this is not deliberate on his part." The queen's face fell. "Though I was always curious why the people of Kristensand called him the 'Black Prince.' If this is intentional… if he is a danger… then Queen Elsa might be the only person who can stop him."

Elsa clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking. "I'll help you, and I have to hope that he will listen to me." _I don't know what I can do otherwise. _Her mind flashed back to the battle in her palace with the Duke of Weselton's guards. In a fit of terror, she had come desperately close to becoming exactly what everyone feared she was. A witch. A killer. Something even Hans of the Southern Isles had called a monster, which was too appalling to consider.

"We must all hope for that, Queen Elsa," Catalina agreed. "You should take a few guards with you, of course, but not so many to scare away the prince. I suggest that Princess Anna stay here, under my protection, for her safety."

"No way!" Anna barked. "I'm not letting her go out there without me!"

"No, Anna," Elsa said firmly. "Not this time."

"I won't let you do this alone!"

"I'm not going alone," Elsa replied, trying to summon a reassuring smile. "I'll take Captain Mathias and half the guards. They'll keep me safe, and the rest will stay here with you."

Her sister's expression only grew even more obstinate. "I don't think so."

"Anna, please stop and think. If his powers truly are out of control, it could be dangerous, and I may not be strong enough to protect you. He wouldn't have to mean for you to get hurt for it to happen." She didn't even try to hide the pain that particular loss of control still wracked her with. She would never forgive herself for it, as long as she lived.

Anna's gaze softened a bit, but the fire in her eyes burned all the brighter with unshed tears. "That's not the point. I told you back in Arendelle, you're going to have to freeze me to leave me behind."

This time Elsa was ready for the barb, and didn't let herself take it literally. And her heart was already hardened with her own determination to protect Anna, who did not have a monopoly on their family's stubbornness. "Fine."

"Hah! I knew you'd give in eventually. When do we—"

"I'll freeze you, then."

"Wait, what?"

With a snap of frost, Anna's feet froze to the floor. She gasped with surprise, wobbling unsteadily, her arms flailing until she found her balance. "You think this will stop me?" She bent down, tossing aside her skirt to begin unlacing her boots. "You'd better run if you think this—"

With a blast of blue light and another crackle, an icicle leapt from the floor, splitting apart and reforming in a loop around Anna's chest, pushing and holding her upright. "Oh that's just not fair." She could move within the loop, but it was too tight a fit to squeeze back through, and no matter how she twisted and turned she couldn't reach her legs. She hunched in defeat, arms hanging uselessly, glaring at Elsa with an expression of petulant rage.

"She'll be safe here," Queen Catalina promised. She seemed to be biting back a smile. "Even after she thaws. I'll send a man to guide you to the quarry. It's just a short ways from the city, but it will be evening soon, and it is treacherous at night. If you'll excuse me, I must make some preparations." She strode off. With a curt wave, her guards followed her into an antechamber off of the main hall.

"Elsa, please," Anna begged. "Don't leave me behind. Don't do this."

The queen closed her eyes. With a sigh, she forced herself not to listen to that voice, the one that had spent years pleading with her through her door to come out, just this once, and build a snowman with her again. "Anna, listen to me." She glanced around. The only ones left in the chamber were people from Arendelle. They were alone as they could get, under the circumstances. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"What? Then why? What's going on?" Anna's voice rose with each question.

"Shh! Keep your voice down. I can't say for sure, but something about this doesn't add up."

"Like what?"

"I don't think the queen is telling us the whole story."

"And here I was, hoping we'd be giving her the keys to the city," Anna replied, deadpan. She held that look for barely a second before doing her best to throw a fit with her feet frozen in place and her waist locked into a lasso of ice, hissing, "Of course she's not telling the whole story, why do you think I don't want you running off alone at nightfall into some conveniently close canyon hideout looking for a fire-breathing runaway prince!"

As her sister glowered, catching her breath from her tantrum, Elsa tried her best to counter a good and passionate argument with a logical one. "Anna, remember the whole situation. Friendly as the queen has been, we're more like prisoners than guests. She brought us here under guard, and her decree is the only thing standing between us and an angry mob." The more she replayed the conversation in her head, the more she was convinced the queen had manipulated her into revealing her powers. Whether it was to make her beholden in order to secure their cooperation, or some other reason, Elsa couldn't say.

"Fine. Then unfreeze me, and we make a break for it. The carriage is right outside, and you can use your magic if they try to stop us."

Elsa shook her head. "No. I won't use my powers like that. I don't want to hurt someone."

Anna frowned, but conceded the point. "So we're just going to play along?"

"Yes. The queen may be using us, but that means we're useful, and _that_ means we're safe as long as we stay that way. And as long as we cooperate, it'll be easier for us to figure out what's going on."

"Okay. What do you need me to do?"

With a wave, she dispelled the ice holding Anna in place. "Try to find out more about what's been happening. About what kind of queen Catalina has been. If nothing else, we need to know if we can trust her to let us go if we help her."

"What about your trade agreement?"

She frowned. "One thing at a time."

"Right. Okay, information gathering. This should be easy. I can be sneaky." She crouched, glancing surreptitiously from side to side. "I can be discreet." She stood, folding her hands behind her back, miming a whistle. "I can grill them for information without them even knowing it." She clasped her hands at her chest, batting her eyelashes.

Elsa blinked. "Let's go find Kristoff. You're going to need some help."

* * *

...

* * *

They took the carriage through the city. Elsa rode alone inside with the curtains closed. She told herself it was to keep out the late afternoon sun and not to hide from the prying eyes of the town. A half-dozen of her guards and Captain Mathias were her mounted escort, and a single guard from Kristensand rode along to guide them to the canyon.

They left the city heading northeast, and it was not even a half-hour before their guide called a halt. The carriage creaked to a stop, and Elsa climbed outside. The horizon around them was flat, marked only by a few low rises not even worthy of being called hills. The wind was dry, hot, and constant, blasting across the plain unfettered by the few scattered trees jutting from the bare, rocky soil. Before them, the road descended sharply into a crevasse, its edges yawning away from the sides of the path like jagged teeth. It looked less like a canyon and more like a scar on the land. The sun was warm, and cold held no power over her, but Elsa felt herself shudder even so.

"It started as a sinkhole, but it turned into a quarry when we found limestone there a few hundred years ago," their guide explained. "Most of the city was built from rock mined here. A few decades ago, the limestone dried up, and the sandstone around it started weathering. The whole place is filled with caves and nooks and crannies, but the path is just a straight cut. Stick to it and you won't get lost, even in the dark."

"You're not going with us?" Elsa wondered.

"Queen's orders. Said I'd scare off the prince if you found him."

"She didn't say anything about sending us down there alone," Captain Mathias grumbled, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Queen's orders," the man repeated stubbornly. "Told me to wait here in case you flushed him out; other end of the canyon's sheer as a castle wall. No skin off my nose if you want to give up and go back. Save me a case of windburn, point of fact."

"We'll see this through," Elsa said. "Captain, I'll need to borrow one of your men's horses. The carriage won't handle that slope."

"Better off leaving the horses behind, Majesty," the guide said. "Too much loose stone. You'll break more than one leg if you try to ride down there."

Captain Mathias rumbled with displeasure, long and low. "Your Majesty, I like this less and less. I strongly urge you reconsider this little adventure."

She was growing more and more worried herself, but refused to let it show. "This is no adventure, Captain. If we don't help lift this drought, Arendelle suffers, one way or another."

"As you command. Liam, take point. Emil, Benjamin, rearguard. Step carefully and keep your eyes on those walls."

Elsa resigned herself to a place in the middle of a ring of seven grown men who treated her like a helpless girl, and they started down the path into the canyon, the clatter of shifting stone growing with every step they took. Elsa had always been surefooted, able to move across ice without effort, but walking on gravel in heels was a feat beyond even her. Fortunately, she could change into a pair of flats with a thought. When even that proved insufficient, she added cleats, and soon was walking almost normally down the loose ground of the defile.

As they descended, the walls that rose around them told the story of the canyon almost better than the guide had. She could see the layers in the rock as generation after generation of miners had excised the long, thin vein of limestone from the earth. Eras were marked by the eroded remnants of the floor from each level, as the quarry had expanded through, then down. Through, then down.

Each layer was marked by a ledge. In some places it was no more than a few inches of rounded stone that stuck out, while in others there were several feet of rock that two or three men could walk along side by side with room to spare. Many parts of the wall vanished into blackness, leading to crevices or entire caves where nodes of the most valuable minerals had once run deep into the walls of the man-made canyon.

The crevasse ran generally east-northeast, permitting at least some of the setting sun to shine off the uppermost layers of sandstone. The color of the rock helped it reflect the light, keeping even the lowest level where they walked from becoming too dim. Their guide had not been wrong; the quarry was almost perfectly straight. Even if night fell, they would not be at risk of getting lost, though Elsa didn't like the chances of everyone making it out of here without a sprained ankle.

Though the quarry had long been abandoned, a few relics remained. Ore carts, their wheels too rusted to move and bodies too rusted to salvage. Pieces of tools, distorted into unrecognizable shapes by time or falling rocks. Timber braces for the caves and side shafts were crumbling, the wood weathered into shades of dull, rotten grey. A few ladders still leaned against the walls, some warped and sagging like old vines clinging to the stone, others still fairly intact, old wood braced with metal bands up the sides and across the rungs.

As the grade of the path leveled off beneath their feet to mark the lowest extent of the canyon, the captain spoke up. "What now, Your Majesty?"

Honestly, she didn't know. It had all seemed so straightforward back at the castle, but standing here, now, she realized the scope of their quest. The canyon itself ran for nearly a mile, and there were dozens, probably hundreds, of caves. Their target could be hiding in any one… if he was here at all. "I'm open to suggestions, Captain."

Even in the gloom, the look he gave her was unmistakably sour. He could probably guess at her heedlessness, but he was a good man and loyal, and did not question her judgment openly.

The silence stretched, though, and at the head of the group young Liam turned to face them. "Well, we're playing hide-and-seek, right?" he asked cheerfully.

Elsa could not help but smile at his enthusiasm. "In a manner of speaking, I suppose we are."

Emboldened by her smile, he shrugged and said, "Well then, we could always try the old-fashioned way." He cupped a hand beside his mouth, and before anyone could stop him, hollered, "Olly olly oxen free!"

His voice echoed far and long between the canyon walls. The rest of the company stared at him in disbelief as the sound faded away into nothingness.

A whistling hiss rose in reply, and before Elsa knew it, two of her guards were dead.

They fell bonelessly to the ground with a pair of soft grunts, the fletchings of the crossbow bolts that had killed them sticking out like misplaced limbs. Elsa's eyes grew wide with terror, but before the bodies had even gone still on the ground, the captain was roaring orders.

"Ambush! Bowmen above, protect the queen!"

Sharp twangs registered to her adrenaline-heightened senses, followed by more whistles as another volley rained down. Another guard gave a pained yelp, a bolt protruding from his knee as he tried to make his way towards Elsa. The four men left standing pressed closed to her, nearly crushing her between them in their haste to shield her from the ranged assault. "No!" she shouted, desperately trying to move. "Give me room!"

She finally freed her right arm from where it was pinned between the captain and Liam, and with a wave and a flash of blue light, a sheet of ice rose to shield the guard who had fallen, hanging above his head like a cresting wave frozen in place. She flailed again and again, and more ice formed between the rest of them and the canyon walls on each side, slowly choking off the archers' angles of attack.

Heart pounding in her ears, Elsa saw movement on the ledges above them. Shapes emerged from the caves and crevices where the shadows had hidden them from view. Now they ran along the paths above them, searching for shots through her frozen barriers.

"Your Majesty, we have to get out of here," the captain shouted. His face was suddenly right in front of her, but she couldn't remember it getting there. It was all happening so fast. "Make us a path back to the ramp!"

She nodded mutely, raising her arms to extend the barriers on both sides back towards the exit, meaning to craft a tunnel of ice to lead them to freedom. Before the first new frost had formed, there was a shout from somewhere above them. "To the ladders! Charge! Don't let the witch escape!"

The shapes descended from the ledges, turning into men who charged from every direction. Elsa's mind was darting about like a hare pursued by hounds, but she found herself recognizing the strangest details. She couldn't have said if there were five men or fifty, but each and every one was wielding a deadly weapon, and her brain rattled them off as though she was observing them on racks in the armory. She saw axes, flails, halberds, hammers, morning stars and mauls. With a start she realized that every weapon was not just lethal against flesh, but ideal for smashing through ice, and all were in the hands of men in golden uniforms with red suns sewn upon their chests.

Her four guards charged to meet the attackers. One of them fell before he'd had a chance to even swing his weapon. He twirled in place as he fell to the ground, revealing a chest sliced open from shoulder to hip, the green of his uniform almost vanishing under a wash of red.

Small ice walls leapt into the paths of the men charging her, and it was only then that Elsa realized her arms were moving again. She threw up roadblocks with short, urgent gestures, trying to stem the flood surging over her guards into a more manageable number for the two of them to handle. But hadn't there been three? She couldn't spare the time to remember.

The numbers facing them weren't getting any lesser, as hard as she tried, and that was when she saw one of her barriers explode into shards under the blow from a man swinging a massive two-handed hammer at a dead run. He barely had to slow down as he charged the captain, who ducked under the swing and allowed his enemy's own momentum to drive a sword through his heart.

Elsa whirled at the sound of a scream from behind, and saw the fallen guard lying in a pool of blood. His cap was rolling across the gravel floor in one direction while his head rolled in another, and the ax held by the man standing above him was made of some strange, red-streaked metal Elsa had never seen before. He and his ax stopped as blocks of ice formed over his legs. His hips twisted as he tried in vain to move. He wouldn't free himself any time soon, but he stood directly between the two ice walls she had first formed. They would never get around him.

The only path left was towards the exit, but that was their only escape anyway. The man grunted and snarled at her, but then his face was hidden behind a wall of ice as she sealed off the tunnel behind them with a wave of her left hand. If she'd waved with the left, why had she just jerked forward with the right? Her right hand wouldn't move. Her right arm, either. She looked down to find out why, and saw the metal barb attached to a wooden shaft sticking out from just below her shoulder. Red was slowly spreading out around it, the ice of her dress sizzling and steaming as it froze the warm blood.

Numb and confused, she turned back. The captain was down, no less than four men standing over him. Liam was on the ground facing Elsa, his back propped against an ice wall. He was smiling at her. Smiling so wide, and red like his cheeks when he'd given her the cup of warm cider, but too low, you couldn't drink cider from a mouth on your neck, and she was cold. She had never been cold before.

Elsa screamed, and the world screamed with her.

The blizzard roared through the narrow passage of the canyon with a sound that was alive. She felt the wind tear across her face, her braid pulled taut in back of her head. She screamed, but couldn't hear the sound of her own voice above the howl of the storm, and her tears froze instantly in the long lashes of her eyes. She screamed until her voice broke, but her mouth stayed open, catching the snow blasting towards her where it froze at the back of her throat. The chill in the air deepened. She fell to her knees, and the wind itself was frozen into stillness.

When she opened her eyes, winter had filled the canyon. Ice glittered wherever she looked, and snow blanketed the few surfaces vertical enough to provide purchase against the gale. Icicles were everywhere, horizontal spikes as large as spears. They pointed at her, cursing, accusing, judging. All around her were odd, randomly spaced piles. They were covered in snow or frost like tiny white dunes. Many of them were moving, slowly, stiffly. Some were making noise, groans of pain or cries for help.

Elsa staggered along the path. She had to get out. She had to go back. She didn't know where to, she couldn't remember the name, but she knew it was up the frozen slope before her. One step, another. She would climb, and then she would be back in Arendelle.

She had to stop to rest, leaning heavily against a tall row of icicles. Why was she stopped? She had to keep moving, but not the way the icicles were pointing. She tried to push herself up, but it was so hard. She was so tired. So cold.

A dark shape moved in front of her. She blinked, and saw a red half-circle on a golden coat. The frost and snow couldn't completely hide the colors. She'd never seen a sunset up close like this. Her legs finally gave out. Elsa stumbled backwards and fell, landing hard on her tailbone, her head snapping back against something hard and unyielding with a burst of stars.

She gasped against the pain, but it sharpened her wits enough to recognize the man stalking towards her, a half-frozen dagger in one hand. He was already so close. She screwed her eyes shut with a whimper, raising a hand to ward off the blow. Without thinking, she felt a burst of cold wind leap from her arm.

One heartbeat, then another, but no blow came. Terrified but unable to stop herself, she slowly opened her eyes. The man had been blown back by the burst of magic. He was standing against the wall she had been leaning on when he'd appeared.

Only he wasn't standing. Three massive icicles were holding him up. Red icicles, their points dripping. Steam rose from them in wisps.

"No!" Elsa gasped, eyes painfully wide, shaking left hand held in front of her mouth. "No, no. Please, no no no!" This wasn't what her powers were for. _Witch_, the voices pounded in her head_. _This wasn't what she wanted to happen. _Killer_, they insisted. She stumbled to her feet, half running, half crawling towards the terrible thing she had done. _Monster_, Hans whispered. Red circles were spreading across the man's golden coat. _Witch_. One was just below his collarbone, a second was forming a second red sun, twin to the one in the center of his chest, and a third covered his stomach. _Killer_. She could hear him breathing. It was no more than a whistling, bubbly wheeze. "Oh, God, please!" she screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. _Monster. Monster. Monster._

The man opened his eyes, and she gasped. They were glowing like two coals from a hot brazier. Tongues of flame danced out, consuming his eyelashes in red sparks and little puffs of smoke as they licked back and forth.

Elsa gasped again, and staggered back. The two lights faded from the man's face, leaving only blackened holes. She could feel warmth spreading across her belly, and her neck bent stiffly as she tried to look down. When her eyes focused, she saw the hilt of the dagger. The blood was flowing so quickly that even the ice of her dress couldn't hope to freeze the wound. She tried to breathe, but every time she did it was pure agony. She fell to her knees, then to her back. Her breath was coming in whispered little puffs.

The cold was inside her now. She had never known such a feeling, and it brought fresh tears to her face. "Anna…" The pain of breathing was gone, replaced by numbness, but now she found she had no strength to try. Darkness fell across her. _Anna, I'm so sorry_. She was tired, so tired. Too tired to even close her eyes.

The darkness shifted. It reached out an arm, and she felt a sudden tug from her middle. Amidst the cold that suffused her, a single ember of warmth took hold there. The darkness moved closer. It wore a hood. Beneath the hood a light flared.

Elsa saw two eyes that burned like suns, and knew no more.


	7. Chapter Seven: Subterfuge

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**Subterfuge**

"Anna, what are you doing?"

"Quiet!" Anna shushed, muzzling Kristoff with one of her hands as she tried to peer around a corner. "We're trying to be stealthy here!"

Kristoff gave her a dubious look as he removed her hand from his mouth. "Why? Queen Catalina just told you we're free to roam around while we wait for your sister to get back." They were in one of the side corridors of Kristensand's town hall/impromptu palace, the light of late afternoon staining the walls a vibrant mix of red and orange through the windows. "Besides, there's nobody here. Sven could walk through the door and there wouldn't be anyone to care about it."

Anna rounded on him with a huff, wagging a finger at him just beneath his chin. "Don't get careless, mister. We have an important mission to complete."

"Which is what, exactly?" Kristoff wondered, leaning back as he stared cross-eyed at her finger.

"Reconnaissance! Information gathering! Espionage!"

"Speak up a bit, I don't think you've managed to make anyone suspicious yet."

Anna glared at him, folding her arms beneath her chest. "Stop making me angry, you'll blow our cover."

Kristoff merely shrugged and stepped around her. "If your sister asked us to look around, let's do that." He walked up to a door a few feet down the hallway, cracking it open to take a quick glance inside before shutting it and moving on.

"You call that a proper investigation?" Anna hissed. "We're searching for clues, you can't just take a look and move on like that!" She threw open the door to the room Kristoff had so casually inspected.

"Anna, it's a closet."

A broom slowly toppled out into the hallway, falling to the floor with a wooden clatter. "Yes. Well. You can hide all kinds of things in closets." She replaced the broom, closed the door, and followed Kristoff down the corridor.

Outside the main chamber, Kristensand's town hall was spared the signs of shoddy renovation. Sturdily built of limestone and granite, a series of corridors bordered the large central room where the queen had established her new court. Wrapped around the main hall in a U-shape, those hallways were where Anna had decided to begin her search.

She and Kristoff opened door after door. They found conference rooms with long tables and fireplaces that sat empty and unused. They searched offices with desks and shelves full of books, and came upon rooms that had been converted into storage, holding haphazard assortments of furniture, stacks of clothing, piles of artwork, even a cabinet full of gleaming silverware. The faint hint of smoke that saturated the collections told Anna that these were likely salvaged from the castle after the fire, the surviving relics of a noble family's home, history, and fortune. Despite her earlier admonition to Kristoff, Anna couldn't bring herself to rifle through such treasures, no matter what clues she might have found. Even if she would never dream of taking anything, it made her feel somehow like a thief. Kristoff refused to even set foot in the rooms, insisting he might break something.

The most they could bring themselves to do was glance over the papers they found in the abandoned offices, but nothing of import leapt out. They found account statements, trade manifests, bills, receipts, inventories, legal contracts, and more than one piece of personal correspondence, but it was all so much gibberish to Anna. The most incriminating thing she had discovered was a set of import/export statistics for trade with Weselton, but Elsa had explained how that sniveling weasel of a man traded with _everyone_. Except Arendelle, of course; that was why they were here in the first place.

Sighing with frustration, Anna returned to its place on a desk a packet of what had turned out to be genealogical research on the minor noble families of Kristensand. "This isn't nearly as easy as I thought it would be."

"You weren't expecting to find a big envelope labeled 'Evil Conspiracy to Conquer the World', were you?" Kristoff asked. "Come on, let's move on to the next room." He gave her a reassuring smile. That helped.

The next room proved to be up a flight of stairs. The outer ring of the building was on two stories, to match the height of the vaulted ceiling in the audience chamber. The floors and walls of the lower level had been bare stone, with a few rugs in the more well-appointed offices and the occasional painting and tapestry, but the second story was not so austere. They found themselves walking on rich, thick carpet, its color that of a deep red wine, set off by the dark polish of the paneled wooden walls.

The contents of the upstairs rooms were as different from those below as the décor. Anna and Kristoff found bedrooms, parlors, sitting rooms, and even a library. In the middle of the back hallway, at the very center of the building, a royal banner hung on the wall directly across from a set of wide double doors, which happened to be the first locked doors they came across.

"I bet these are the queen's apartments," Anna said, eyes narrowed with consideration. She tried the handles of both doors once more, but in vain. They were latched tight.

"Please tell me you're not thinking about breaking down the door," Kristoff pleaded.

"Of course not," she assured him. "Too noisy." She pondered the keyhole for a moment. "If only I had a carrot."

Kristoff's face twisted in confusion. "Are you hungry?"

"No, silly. To pick the lock."

"Oh. Well— wait, what?"

"Olaf's not here, anyway," Anna concluded, shaking her head. "Long story. Let's keep looking."

"Uh-huh," was all Kristoff managed as they resumed their search.

The next door down had another banner hanging across from it, but this one was smaller and riddled with scorch marks. The golden field was dulled by soot, and half the setting sun was missing, the space no more than a ragged hole bordered by charred fabric.

Anna shared a glance with Kristoff, wondering if she looked as worried as he did. Hesitantly, she reached for the handle of the door, expecting to find it locked as well. It turned with an ominous click. With a gulp, she pushed the door open.

They found another bedroom, lit by the warm, soft glow of lamplight. The room was small, furnished with little more than a wardrobe, chest of drawers, and a simple dressing table. What little space remained was dominated by a solitary chair and the bed itself.

A bed that was occupied.

A girl lay there in blankets that covered her to the waist, dressed in a nightgown of red satin. She was young, perhaps a bit younger than Anna, but that was hard to judge. She was terribly thin, almost frail, pale skin sunken and sallow. Shoulder-length auburn hair lay around her head like a halo against cloth of gold pillows. Her hands were folded on her stomach, rising and falling as she breathed with the slow steadiness of deep, dreamless sleep.

Anna stepped inside slowly, cautiously. She tried not to make a sound, even as some part of her knew that this girl was not merely in bed for an evening nap. She stopped at the beside, hands folded self-consciously before her, resisting the empathetic urge to reach out and stroke the girl's hair. Through the sympathy that filled her heart there was a current of something else. It was a twinge of familiarity. She studied the lines of the face before her, and almost gasped with recognition. The girl was almost identical to a woman hung among Anna's old friends in Arendelle's Hall of Portraits: her Aunt Helena. This, then, must be Princess Seraphim.

"What are you doing here?!" Anna jumped, startled by the shout from behind her and Kristoff. A man stood in the doorway, staring at them in shock. "Who are you? Stay away from the princess!"

"No, it's not—" Anna gasped, waving her hands and shuffling as far back from the bedside as she could in the cramped quarters. "We didn't mean to—"

"Who are you?" the man repeated, studying them with suspicious green eyes as he approached the side of the bed opposite Anna and Kristoff. He was old, with only a thin, wispy strip of hair around the back of his head. He reached a wrinkled, liver-spotted hand out to take one of Seraphim's, stroking it gently for a moment before shifting his grip to take a pulse.

"I'm Anna, and this is Kristoff," she said. She nodded towards the girl in the bed. "That's my cousin."

The old man's eyes narrowed as he considered that. He placed the princess' hand down with tender care, sliding into the lone chair next to the bed. "I'd heard the princesses of Arendelle had come to visit," he said guardedly.

"That's right," Anna said, nodding eagerly. "Well, I'm a princess, my sister's the queen. And she's not here now, she left to find Prince Uriel. I'm sure she'd have visited first if she'd known our cousin was here. So would I. Visited earlier, I mean. If I'd known. We just kinda found this room."

"Do you make a habit of wandering into rooms when you visit someone else's home?"

"Well, only when I'm— oof!" Anna winced, glaring at Kristoff while she rubbed at her side where he'd just elbowed her.

"No, but she's always had a pretty laid-back definition of propriety."

"Hey!" Anna protested.

"Is that so?" the old man wondered.

"As long as I've known her."

"Hmm." He was silent for a moment, resting a hand protectively on the side of the bed. "I'm Simon," he said at last. "Her Highness' physician."

Anna nodded to him politely before turning her gaze back to Seraphim. Laying there silently as the rest of them talked, she seemed almost too peaceful. "Will she be okay?"

"She was saved from any direct harm in the fire, though she did inhale some smoke. In all my years, I have never known a stronger-willed young woman than Princess Sera. But I fear the longer it takes for her to wake, the less hope we have. I feed her broth with herbs and honey to keep up her strength, but…" he trailed off, an odd light in his sad green eyes. His hand upon the bed was shaking.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Anna said decisively. "I'd like to meet her."

A new voice, accented and calm, entered the conversation. "We all pray that may yet happen," Queen Catalina said from the doorway.

"Your Majesty." Simon rose from the chair, bowing.

"Have you administered Her Highness' medication for the day?"

The doctor shuffled his feet. "N-no, Your Majesty. Not yet. I—"

"Please, we have discussed this," the queen said. She sounded irritated, and her golden eyes gleamed with annoyance in the lamplight. "Now do as I asked."

Simon's jaw twitched, his eyes glittering with moisture, but he turned and opened the top drawer of the small stand beside the bed. He withdrew an ampoule and a syringe, and with shaking hands tried to thread the needle into the seal. With a yelp, the vial slipped from his grasp. It tumbled for half an instant before shattering upon the corner of the nightstand.

"You old fool!" the queen snarled. "It's a wonder you haven't harmed the princess yet with such clumsiness."

"Ap-pologies, Your M-Majesty," the doctor stammered, staring at the fractured remnants of the vial.

"Don't just stand there. Go and fetch a fresh dose."

"B-but…"

"Now!" Catalina barked, golden eyes flashing. From the bed, the princess gave the faintest of whimpers, the skin around her eyes tightening. The doctor scurried out of the room like a kicked dog, flinching away from Commander Ulbrecht, who was standing in the hallway.

"Majesty," the guard captain said urgently. He stood beyond the soft glow of the lamps emanating from the room, his face shrouded in darkness.

With a glance at Anna and Kristoff, Catalina walked over to speak with him. Anna strained her ears, but could not make out any of their brief, whispered conversation. The queen seemed to sag as Ulbrecht spoke, her eyes drifting closed and one hand massaging her temple. She dismissed him with a wave and a curt nod and returned to the bedroom.

"Princess Anna, please excuse me. There is an urgent matter I must attend to."

"Is there anything I can do?" Anna offered helpfully.

"Not at the moment, thank you. Another guest is demanding my attention most stridently, and I fear I must calm him down before he aggravates Commander Ulbrecht any further." She glanced towards the bed. "I would understand if you wish to remain with your cousin for a while longer. Your presence may do her some good."

The queen glided out of the bedroom with a swish of her golden skirt and disappeared down the hallway. Anna waited just long enough to make sure Catalina was really gone before moving for the door herself.

"Anna, wait!" Kristoff called. "Where are you going?"

"Something's up," Anna said, as sure of that as anything she'd ever known. "We have to find out what it is."

"What about your cousin? Shouldn't we at least wait for the doctor to come back?"

Anna gave the sleeping girl an anguished glance. "There's nothing we can do for her. Now come on." She crept out into the hallway, looking both ways to make sure the passage was empty before sprinting back towards the staircase they'd taken up to the second floor. Night had fallen in the course of their search, leaving only a few scattered torches for light, and a corresponding abundance of shadows to hide in. Anna paused at the corner by the railing that overlooked the stairs. She felt Kristoff come up beside her, shooting him a grateful look before peering around to check again for anyone else lurking the halls. The coast was still clear.

"Where are we going?" Kristoff whispered as they descended the steps back to the first floor. "And where have all the guards gone, for that matter?"

"I don't know where everyone went, but we're going to the main hall. That'll be where Catalina's meeting whoever this 'other guest' is… if that's even what she's doing."

"And if she's telling the truth, is it any of our business?"

"Elsa asked me to find out what kind of queen Catalina is. If she's really just holding the hand of some annoyed traveling salesman, then I figure this is part of the answer."

"I don't think your sister really meant that as a blanket amnesty for eavesdropping."

"Shush!" The open archway between the central hall and the outer corridor was straight ahead. Anna stopped, listening intently, but there were no sounds coming from the audience chamber, conversation or otherwise. She risked a quick look, but found the room empty.

Frowning, she walked out into the chamber. "Well, there goes that idea. I really don't want to go door-to-door through this place again to find out where she's gone."

"That makes two of us," Kristoff grumbled.

Before Anna could formulate a proper retort, the creak of a door opening came through the archway on the opposite side of the hall, followed by footsteps and the indistinct exchange of at least two voices. Eyes wide, Anna whirled left and right, searching for a place to hide. "Quick, there!"

Kristoff gave her a doubtful look, even as she began pushing him insistently towards her chosen hiding spot. "What, behind the tapestry?"

"That's what tapestries are for!" She had no sooner manhandled them both behind the hanging curtain than the footsteps and voices increased in volume as they exited the corridor into the audience chamber.

"…demand some proof of action on your part!" a man's voice said angrily. "I didn't come all this way to warn you about an imminent threat to your kingdom only to be hidden away and ignored!"

Anna's eyes widened. She knew that voice!

"Please, Your Grace," Queen Catalina's silkily accented tones replied. "I appreciate your concern, but I've met the girls. They hardly seem like the monsters you described. I found them quite refreshing, actually."

"Don't tell me they've ensorcelled you, too! By the time I left, that witch had her advisors throwing away twenty-nine years of profitable relations, insulting me to my face, and smiling while they did it!"

"On which I have only your word, Duke Wesley. I should think you of all people would know the risks of trying to sell a bill of goods."

The angry voice sputtered. "I have had enough of your snide insinuations, Your Majesty! If you do not wish to heed my warnings, then I shall take my leave."

"Come now. You know as well as I do that with the loss of Arendelle's cooperation you need my city as a western trading port. Now, if you'll kindly stop storming about and return with me to my solar, we can discuss this like civilized people."

"Don't coddle me, missy!"

Even behind the tapestry, the silence in the wake of that statement was pointed. When Catalina spoke again, her voice was hard as stone. "You speak to a queen, Your Grace. Discourtesy does you no credit."

"Pah! You're the second cousin to the younger daughter of a nobody from a sandpit, lucky enough to marry a duke and conniving enough to wrap him around your little finger. It's bad enough your neighbors call that hamlet of theirs a kingdom, but for you to be so jealous as to scheme yourself into a self-appointed throne… I can understand your sense of inferiority, since at least they have a _pedigree_."

"Even great kingdoms have humble beginnings," Queen Catalina protested, voice strained.

"And petty kingdoms will not stand against the wealthiest duchy in the region. I suggest you keep that in mind, _Your Majesty_. I will not stand to be insulted. I will certainly not let an assault upon my person go uncontested. It was no idle threat I faced in Arendelle: that vile sorceress who calls herself a queen did no less than try to kill me with her own two hands!"

By now Anna could feel the blood boiling in her face, and that was one hurtful, hateful, lying insult too many. "She did not!" Anna howled, throwing aside the tapestry with enough force that half the nails holding it up were torn from the wall. "She never did anything to you, but you tried to have her killed!" She felt Kristoff trying to grab her shoulders to calm her down, but she twisted away. She didn't want to be calm. "She _should_ have frozen you solid and thrown you into the ocean, but she just let you go. You don't know how lucky you are."

The Duke of Weselton was gaping at her, his mouth fluttering open and shut like a fish's beneath his bushy grey mustache. "You're loose?!" he scrambled behind Catalina, trying to place her between himself and Anna. "Your Majesty, how could you allow such creatures free reign of your halls?!"

"She is my guest as much as you are, Your Grace."

"They're dangerous! You," he barked at Anna, "where's your sister?" He glanced over his shoulder. "If you think to take me unawares, you'll find I won't go down without a fight!"

"No one will be attacking anyone," Queen Catalina said firmly. "Duke Wesley, please return to your rooms at the inn. We can resume our conversation some other time."

"My life is in danger here! I will not be dismissed!"

"Very well. Commander Ulbrecht!"

The guard captain appeared as if from thin air, striding out of the side hall. "Your Majesty?"

"Please escort the duke back to his accommodations and place him under guard. We would not want him to feel threatened while he remains with us, after all."

"With pleasure." He ushered the Duke of Weselton out of the hall, ignoring the man's sputters of protest.

Anna glared daggers at him the whole way, and stared hard enough at the door he left through that she would not have been surprised had it caught fire.

"I feel I must apologize, Princess Anna," the queen said. Anna had barely even noticed her approach. "I know the duke has a very recent and unpleasant history with your family, but I had hoped you would not cross paths."

"He's a liar," Anna growled. "My sister never tried to hurt him. She'd never hurt anyone."

"For what it's worth, I tend you believe you. But I fear we have a greater problem than Duke Wesley's penchant for exaggeration."

"What's wrong?"

"Night has fallen, and your sister has not returned."

Anna's anger fizzled away. "Has something happened?"

"I don't know. I've sent a company of men to investigate. They should return soon, but in the meantime we can only hope that nothing has gone wrong. If she has encountered the Black Prince and he did not prove open to reason... I might fear the worst."

Anna felt a knot tightening in her stomach. "Maybe I should go, too. I can help look for her."

"I must strongly insist against that, Your Highness," the queen replied sadly. "My men are searching as we speak. You should remain here for now. Under my protection, where it's safe. For if something unfortunate has befallen your sister, you are all Arendelle has left."


	8. Chapter Eight: The Light of Dawn

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**The Light of Dawn**

Elsa's dreams were grey and shapeless. She drifted through a vast wasteland, a great nothingness that shifted and changed beneath her feet, though somehow she knew that she was not the one moving. Indistinct sounds, muffled and distant, drew her gaze this way and that, but she was always too slow to catch them, their sources vanishing into mist whenever she tried to track them down.

Piece by piece, the sounds became voices. At first they were unrecognizable, snatched susurrations carried to her ears by some phantom breeze. Slowly the whispers resolved into words, but she found herself confused by a jumble of languages. She scoured the hum for familiar noises, but every time she tried to grasp the thread of a recognizable sound, it only became harder to follow as the din of the whispers rose to drown it out.

Suddenly, like a favorite song caught from among background noise, Elsa heard a voice, clearer than all the others. "Father?" she called. The voice did not respond to her shout, but she found herself running after it. The rest of the whispers quieted with every step, and the growing silence made her feel terribly alone. The emptiness in her heart grew unbearable. She forced herself to stop, and her father's voice faded away. She could feel tears in her eyes.

Elsa tried to retrace her steps, but there was nothing to guide her back. She turned about desperately, hoping for something, some sound, some sign. A single point of light flickered in the dim, dull greyness, like the first star struggling to pierce the gloom of twilight. She moved towards it, the void in her chest filling with every step. The voices returned, this time a chorus of familiar sounds. She heard the servants and staff from the castle. Her councilors. Her pace quickened. The light grew larger. She recognized Kristoff, and even Olaf. There was Kai and Gerda. When she heard the music of Anna's laugh, she was sprinting.

The light grew brighter. Elsa shielded her eyes, but kept running. She was soon surrounded by white, blinding and luminous. She stumbled, the brilliance becoming painful. With a final, lurching step, she knew the only escape was to open her eyes.

She did, and the brightness vanished. Elsa's eyes fluttered open. Fatigue and pain spread through her body in a numb, throbbing wave. She tried to focus, but found only darkness and silence around her.

"Please stay still, Your Majesty," an unfamiliar voice implored her. "You're badly hurt."

"Where am I?" she managed. Her tongue felt like a wad of cotton in her mouth.

"A small hunting lodge near the quarry. You're safe."

She wondered if she could believe that, but the pain in her throat gave her a more urgent concern. "Thirsty."

There was a sound of shifting cloth. She felt a hand on the back of her head, gently tilting it up, and the touch of something to her lips. "Water," the voice said. "Drink, slowly."

Elsa sipped at the moisture that dabbed hesitantly against her lips. It seemed like an eternity before she could get so much as a swallow, but it felt like pure, cold bliss. After a few mouthfuls, the hand laid her head back down. She would have protested, but realized she was panting from that simple effort. She felt exhausted. Her eyes drifted shut.

She must have slipped back into unconsciousness, for the next thing she knew there was a faint light in the darkness. She felt comforting warmth, and some of the pervasive ache that filled her had faded away. Elsa opened her eyes towards the light, expecting to see the faint glow of dawn through her bedroom windows.

She saw a hand hovering over her abdomen, fingers glowing softly in the darkness. Faint white-gold tendrils drifted through the space between the hand and her stomach, and she noticed a small fraction of the light, an almost imperceptible sheen, was actually coming from her.

Elsa gasped, and the hand snapped back, its light vanishing. "I'm sorry," a voice said. It was the same one that had offered her the water. "You fell back to sleep."

She sat up slowly, gingerly, muscles aching in protest but obeying. In the renewed darkness, she squinted towards the direction of the voice. "What were you doing?" A note of accusation crept into her words before she could think to stop it.

There was a long silence. "Healing," the dark stranger said at last. "You were wounded. Do you remember?"

Unconsciously, her palm drifted to her stomach. Through the thin blanket that covered her, she could feel smooth, unmarred flesh beneath her hand. Her _right_ hand, she suddenly realized, glancing down at her shoulder. She saw only bare skin, pale as porcelain. She stared for a long moment, until some part of her mind broke through the fog to realize her current state. She felt herself flush as she tugged the thin blanket further above the swell of her breasts. She drew up her knees, holding the covering in place with one arm while she tried to wrap the blanket around her back with the other.

"I apologize," the stranger muttered. Had she not been so embarrassed herself, Elsa might have recognized the same note in his voice. "The ice of your dress consumed itself trying to staunch your wounds."

"What do you mean?" she said, hugging the blanket more tightly to her body. Like all her conjured ice, her gown did not require conscious effort to maintain. She'd been knocked out cold after the attack in her palace on the north mountain, but hadn't ended up like _this_.

"Your powers were trying to stop your bleeding, but you were unconscious and exhausted. Your magic sought to protect you, but it prioritized survival before… modesty," the stranger said delicately. "For what it's worth, I wrapped you in my cloak when I brought you here, and your magic did not fade completely until a short time ago."

"How do you know about my magic? About magic at all?" Elsa wondered, mind suddenly racing as her embarrassment was replaced by confusion. "Who _are_ you?"

The stranger did not reply. Elsa scowled. They were deep into a moonless night, and there was barely enough light filtering through the windows of the room they were in to make out shapes, let alone details. "Show yourself."

There was a shuffle, and she could just barely make out the stranger moving across the room. A faint chime of glass was followed by the sharp rasp of a match being struck. Elsa blinked against the flare of light, and kept blinking as it brightened into the soft glow of a lamp.

Her eyes adjusted slowly, but Elsa could finally make out details around her. It was just the two of them in what looked to be a small, single-room shack, each wall scarcely more than ten feet long. She was sitting atop a threadbare cot, and the blanket wrapped around her was the only bedding. There was a small table with two chairs along the wall to her right, and the wall opposite held a set of cabinets beneath a countertop, with some shelves above that. The final wall held only a door, a pair of windows, and a single small set of drawers within easy reach of both the door and the cot that served as a nightstand.

The stranger was standing by the table that held the lamp, waving out the match with his left hand. The light revealed him to be wearing black from head to toe, and the hood of his dark cloak was drawn up.

"Who are you?" Elsa repeated, worried that she already knew the answer.

"My name is Uriel. Uriel Christianson."

"Prince Uriel? The Black Prince?"

"Not anymore." The hood of the cloak dipped. "Black perhaps, but a prince no longer."

Recognition only bred further confusion. Elsa's mind was awhirl with so many questions she felt dizzy. The only thing she didn't feel, for whatever reason, was fear.

"You obviously recognized my name, Your Majesty. And my nickname as well. I have to wonder how."

"I was searching for you. I wanted to help you. To help save Kristensand from your powers."

"You've been to the city?"

"Yes. I arrived there… yesterday, I suppose. How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours. But please, Your Majesty, have you seen my sister? How is Sera?"

Elsa blinked at the earnest desperation in his voice. "I don't know," she admitted. "The queen said only that she was unconscious. She inhaled smoke from the fire."

Uriel started pacing back and forth in front of the counter. His right leg moved stiffly, adding an awkwardness to his gait. "Unconscious? Please, God, not her, too." His left hand pressed against the side of the hood as he gripped his head.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Elsa said softly.

The pacing stopped abruptly. "I couldn't get to Gabriel. I tried, but… "

There was no easy way to put what she had to say next, but Elsa had to ask it all the same. "The queen said the fire was… your fault. Was it?"

Uriel fell heavily into the nearest chair. He was silent for a long moment. "Yes. My brother is dead, and my sister may soon join him, despite…" he trailed off, left fist clenching white-knuckled over his opposite shoulder. "My fault. All my fault." His voice was pained.

"What happened?"

"My powers," Uriel spat. "This curse that runs rampant, scorching the land. I've tried, tried so hard to control it, but nothing I do seems to make any difference. It's only gotten worse. The raging sun grows stronger with each passing day."

Elsa felt a pang of sympathy. She'd had faith that no one could place such a curse upon a land intentionally, but the raw anguish in his voice lifted all doubt. "Please, don't give up," she said. "Once I felt the same as you do. But there is always hope."

Uriel was silent. He looked at her, two dim pools of light marking his eyes amongst the shadows that shrouded his face. "No one else could say those words and have them mean anything at all. But I doubt even you can help me, Your Majesty."

Suddenly, Elsa realized something. "You knew about my powers. You know who I am?"

"I found you in a frozen canyon filled with snow. Your powers were not difficult to guess."

"That's not it. You've not called me anything but 'majesty' this whole time." His shoulders tensed. "I ask you again," Elsa demanded. "How do you know me?"

Still he hesitated. At last he said simply, "I dreamed of you."

She blinked. That was not the answer she'd expected. "What?"

"I had a dream. Or what I thought was a dream until a few days later, when word reached us of Queen Elsa of Arendelle and her powers of ice and snow. Then, I knew what I had seen actually happened."

"What did you see?"

"I saw the world through your eyes. You stood upon a snow-capped mountain, fearful and alone. But you cast away that fear, claimed that solitude." He was speaking softly, almost reverently. "And with nothing but your will and your heart you forged a tower to shame the Seven Wonders of the World. You mastered your powers, made them your own, shouting your defiance at the dawn."

She stared at him, speechless, heart pounding in her ears. She tried not to show how much what he'd said had shaken her. That night on the north mountain had been liberating and cathartic, but also private. She had used it to come to terms with herself, or at least to start to. The thought that someone had seen her in that moment – at her most open, her most vulnerable – left her feeling… violated. "How do you know about that?" she breathed.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Not really. But I believe magic is a part of the world, not any one person. It binds us all, none more so than those who wield it. I had never felt such determination before that night. It was enough to make me believe that maybe I could still master my powers. Then the fire came, and burned that hope to ash."

"You think your powers can't be controlled?"

"I believed they could, once. My mother helped me, when I was little. My earliest memories are of her showing me the good I could do, the wonders and the beauty. After she died, my father tried, too. I tested my limits, explored my abilities, learned to control them. Eventually, I thought I had mastered them. Then two years ago, the summer came and never left.

"At first it was just a mild winter, but spring brought raging heat and I knew something was wrong. I tried everything I could think of, but the next winter came and went without a single freeze. People grew restless. My father did all he could to keep the peace… he told me he forged a crown hoping the citizens might respect a king's word more than a duke's, but it didn't help. Rumors about me had begun to spread through the town. By the time he passed away, half of Kristensand wanted me dead."

It was a terrible burden for anyone to bear, as Elsa knew all too well. The knowledge that you were harming those you loved, but powerless to stop it. "Is that why you fled the city?" she asked.

"No. I fled because I'm a coward."

"A coward? Why?"

"I hid in the castle behind walls and guards, and that only caused more death and pain when the fire destroyed it. It may yet take the only family I have left. I've given the people no cause to love magic. If they had attacked me, it would be no more than I deserve. But instead I hid here in the wilderness, and they vent their anger on you in my stead. All my selfishness has brought is pain to those who deserve it the least."

Elsa had wondered who was responsible for the ambush in the quarry. The faces of her guards still haunted her when she closed her eyes. Handsome young Liam, jolly Benjamin, her loyal Captain Mathias… Their deaths were on her hands. "I brought that upon myself," she said sadly. "I made a fool of myself with my magic in the middle of the town hall."

"That would not have won you many friends in Kristensand. The queen should have warned you."

"The queen wasn't sure I had powers, or so she said. I still wonder if she didn't have a hand in it. There were royal guards among my attackers."

"The guards live here, too," Uriel said. "They are only men, and feel fear and anger like everyone else."

She saw the sense of that. After all, it seemed a waste of effort to lead her into an ambush when she had already been utterly in the queen's power back in the city.

Elsa found herself at a crossroads. She had sought out Prince Uriel thinking that her experience might help; "love will thaw" was hardly applicable, but it would have been somewhere to start. But as he told it, it seemed that he had demonstrated control over his powers growing up that she could have only dreamed of, and still lost it in the end. It frightened her to think that perhaps her own fledgling mastery was an illusion, or temporary at best.

In short, she had found no answers, only new questions. "Where will you go now?" she asked.

"Once you are healed, I will escort you back to the city and surrender myself. I've run long enough. Maybe my death will put an end to this summer."

She stared at him in shock. "You really think it will go that far?"

"Considering what they did to you, I have no illusions about what my life is worth," Uriel said matter-of-factly. "If they are merciful, they might allow me to see my sister one last time."

"Can you heal her? When the queen spoke of her condition, she didn't sound optimistic."

"I can try, if they'll let me." His head shook, the edges of his hood waving back and forth. "I would never have left her if I'd known. She was fine when I pulled her to safety. Coughing, but awake."

"You'll see her again," Elsa promised.

"I don't think it will be up to you. But thank you."

"I would seem to owe you my life. It's the least I could do. Besides, I have a sister, too."

"All the more reason to get you back. Speaking of which, I was almost done healing you when you woke up again. Shall I finish?"

"I'd like you to do something else, first."

"Of course, Your Majesty," he replied, moving to rise from his chair.

"Take off your hood."

He froze. Then, very slowly, finished standing. "I… would rather not."

"Why?"

Another silence stretched between them. "You would not like what you saw," he said at last.

Her eyes narrowed. "I didn't take you for a vain man, Prince Uriel." She cast a significant glance over the sheet she was wearing. "Given our circumstances, it seems only fair that you at least let me see your face."

He sighed. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry." He raised his left hand, grasping the edge of the cowl. For a moment it seemed he would change his mind, but then he slowly drew back the black cloth that had hidden him throughout their conversation.

His hair, too, was black, full and straight, cut a bit short of shoulder length. His eyes were grey as storm clouds, and looking everywhere but at her.

Elsa blinked, a hand leaping from the bed to cover her mouth. She was too shocked even to gasp.

From just above his right eyebrow, down over his eye, and across his cheek and lower jaw, the skin was horribly burned. The whole side of his face was an angry red, puckered and scarred. He had no sideburn, and more than half of his right ear was gone. The seared flesh continued down the side of his neck, disappearing beneath his tunic and the edge of his cloak. Suddenly the limp from his stiff right leg took on a whole new context, and she could not recall seeing him move his right arm. It had remained beneath his cloak the entire time.

"What happened?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.

"A small price to pay for my sister's life," he said. "The door to her room was aflame when I arrived, so I broke it down. The fire took offense."

"But your healing powers…"

"Don't work on my own body. Have you ever frozen yourself with your own ice? Or even felt the bite of its cold?"

She shook her head. She'd worn a gown made of ice, but for some reason what should have logically happened under those conditions had never really registered. "I never really thought about it like that. I'm sorry. It… looks painful."

"It will heal eventually. I fear you misjudged me, though, Your Majesty. I am a noble born and bred, and fear I _am_ quite a vain man," he gave her a smile that was a bit lopsided, and not all because of the burns.

"Not without reason," she said. She felt herself smiling back.

"No need for flattery. Let's get you healed before your sister starts worrying."

"Anna doesn't worry, she acts. She's probably scouring the countryside as we speak." The thought would have troubled her, but the people's ire had seemed focused upon Elsa alone when she'd revealed her magic. Plus, Queen Catalina had promised to keep Anna safe while Elsa was searching for Prince Uriel. Failing that, Kristoff and Sven would keep an eye on her. All Elsa could do at this point was get back to Kristensand as soon as she was able.

"She sounds a great deal like you, then," Uriel said, pulling his chair up next to the bed.

Considering she had charged off looking for the prince mere hours after arriving in the city, Elsa found herself with no counter to that. She chose the next-best strategy, and changed the subject. "So, what can you do besides heal?"

"I can generate and manipulate light and heat, as you do with ice and snow."

With such similarities, Elsa wondered if there was some untapped aspect of her own magic similar to his healing. Though perhaps it was more a question of utility; she would not have thought her ice gown to be capable of freezing her wounds shut, any more than she had considered using her snow as a water supply until Anna had mentioned the possibility. It was something to consider, but at another time, in another place. Uriel was looking at her expectantly. "Is there anything you need me to do?" she asked.

"Just relax. I don't want to startle you again like when you woke up the last time."

Elsa nodded, and he raised his left hand, holding it a few inches over her shoulder. A faint hum arose, half-heard beneath the sound of breathing and the beating of her heart. The sound was not unpleasant, almost musical. Uriel's hand began to glow softly, limned in white-gold light. She looked up, and saw that same faint light shining from his eyes.

Elsa screamed.

The man was dying, red spreading across his chest in great blotches. _Witch. _His breath rattled in her ears. _Killer._ His eyes were fire, the skin around them blackening. _Monster_. She felt the dagger in her stomach, heard the sizzling of ice as the hot blood flowed out of her. She was cold, so cold—

"Majesty!" she heard a voice call out to her from far away. She felt herself shaking as the cold wind swirled around her. How could she be so cold? She was never cold. _Witch_. "Your Majesty, listen to me! Focus on my voice!" She was curled into a tight ball, shivering violently. She saw two grey eyes before her, so close she could hear the roll of thunder from the storms. _Killer_.

"That's it. Breathe, just breathe. You're okay. You're safe."

Her mind and body alike disagreed vehemently with those statements. "Get away from me!" she screamed.

Uriel recoiled from her so quickly that he fell in an undignified heap, wincing as he landed on his right arm.

"You lied to me! You lied and I believed you, like a foolish girl!" _Monster_. The wind whipped through the tiny shack, making the light of the torch sputter precariously.

"What? Your Majesty, I—"

"No! It wasn't angry townspeople or disgruntled guards that tried to kill me." It made sense now. How could she have forgotten? "They were possessed."

"Who was possessed? How? Calm down, please! You're making no sense."

"You used your powers on them. Filled them with fire and rage. Made them want to kill me so badly that they kept fighting even at the brink of death." The man's eyes screamed _monster monster monster _as they turned to embers, and the dagger tore into her. "His eyes were burning as he stabbed me. What kind of fiend are you, to burn a man from the inside out just to get him to kill me?" _You loved your sister and left her dying. You dreamed of me and tried to have me killed_.

Uriel was still on the floor. He was struggling to push himself into a sitting position against the side of the cot, slipping on the patches of ice that were forming throughout the cabin. "Your Majesty, please," he begged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop trying to fool me." She was standing over Uriel, one fist clenched to the blanket wrapped around her, the other hand held towards him, palm out, blue frost crackling in the air in front of her fingers. "You're using your fire magic to burn this land into ashes and bend its people to your will, and they call _me _a monster. All I ever wanted was to _be who I am!_"

He looked up at her, fear and sadness and resignation in equal measure plain upon his poor, red, ruined face. "You're not a monster, Elsa."

Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. She was cold, and tired, and could feel the dagger tearing at her flesh. The man's golden coat was turning red before her eyes, the icicles run through his chest pointing at her like accusing fingers. Tears streamed down her face, warm tracks turning to ice as the freezing wind slashed at them. "I am," she cried. "I never wanted to be, but I am. I'm no better than you are. I'm everything they say I am. A witch. A killer. A monster."

"I've seen your tower," he said softly, voice barely audible above the wind, "shining like a beacon in the light of dawn. No one capable of creating something so beautiful could ever be a monster."

Elsa was weeping openly now, her vision fractured into crystalline blurs, unable to speak through her sobs.

"Do what you must," Uriel said. "I gave up my right to mercy the moment I allowed anyone else to be harmed by my lack of control. You'll be doing the world the favor I never had the courage to. I'm sorry."

Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking with fear, with rage, with adrenaline. The noise of the crowd was pounding in her head, their voices howling at her in the wind. She could feel the magic surging at her fingertips, begging for release. One single thought, the barest slip, that's all it would take. She could give in, and become what they all believed her to be.

Elsa fell to her knees. The wind stilled. The only sound in the cabin was that of her crying.

When a pair of arms wrapped around her, she didn't even care whose they were. She bawled shamelessly into a shoulder, fingers gripping cloth with tortured strength. Her body shook with sobs, tension bleeding away like steam from thawing ice. A hand gently stroked the back of her head with silent sympathy.

She couldn't say how long it was until the tears stopped coming, but they did. Tired beyond belief, she gently pushed herself out of Uriel's grasp with shaking arms. She sat across from him, staring at the floor. He said nothing, asked nothing. They stayed that way for a long time.

"I killed him," she said simply.

He waited for her to elaborate, but silence stretched out. "Who?" he prompted gently.

"One of the men who attacked me. I didn't mean to. I didn't want to hurt any of them."

"You had no choice. They would have killed you."

"I know. But it could have been different. I could have frozen them all, trapped them, blown them away safely. But he still died, and it was because of me."

"Was it the man with the burning eyes? The one who stabbed you?"

She blinked at him with stiff and swollen eyes. "It really wasn't you?"

"I swear to you by my honor, on my life… on my sister's life. I don't know what kind of magic it was that you saw, but it was not mine."

"But the fire…" Elsa shook her throbbing head. "I was so sure."

"My eyes have always glowed white when I used my powers, but I've never seen or done anything that made it happen in anyone else," Uriel said. "My mother told me I was born with a piece of the sun inside me, and that was where my magic came from."

"The sun?" Her bewilderment intensified the pounding between her ears.

"Yes. It was a fun thing to picture as a child."

"That's not what I meant," Elsa said, blinking as she tried to get the rambling thoughts charging through her head into order. "I thought your power was over fire."

Uriel shook his head. "I can influence it, but just indirectly. My magic only gives me control of light and heat, like I told you. You have ice, and I have the sun."

She stared at him, mouth agape. With a roar, the pounding of her head vanished in an instant of clarity. "If you don't have power over fire… then who does?"

But even as she asked the question, Elsa realized she already knew the answer.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

***A/N*** - I'm sure a few readers have guessed, as well. Please be wary of spoilers if you're reading reviews.

PTSD is not fun to write, less fun to research, and even less fun to contemplate. I make no claims to medical or psychiatric expertise, and can only hope my use of the condition as a concept here does not offend anyone who suffers from it in reality.


	9. Chapter Nine: Fighting Fire

**CHAPTER NINE**

**Fighting Fire**

"That's it," Anna declared. "I'm going. Right now."

She hadn't even had a chance to take a step before Kristoff wrapped an arm around her waist, effortlessly lifting her off the ground.

"Hey!" she protested, whacking at the thick forearm across her stomach. "Put me down!"

Kristoff merely sighed, shrugging off her attempts to escape. "We should at least wait for the men the queen sent out to get back before we go after Elsa. She'll probably come back with them, and do you want to have run off looking for her if that happens?"

"Let go! Martin, help me out here. Aren't you supposed to protect me?"

The leader of Anna's contingent of the guard detail gave her a look. "All due respect, Your Highness, the lad's doing me a favor. You already ran off without me once."

"We never even left the building," Anna huffed. "Can you at least go ask the queen if she's heard anything new?"

Martin eyed her dubiously, probably contemplating the fact that the queen would have made them her first stop if any news had arrived. The rest of the men were outside with the horses, enjoying the relatively cool evening air, but as senior officer he didn't have that excuse to escape Anna's frenetic worrying. He sighed, scratching the thick, greying side whiskers that made him look like he had a pair of scrub brushes sticking out from beneath his hat. "Is that an order, Your Highness?"

"Yes."

"All right, then." He started walking off.

"Wait!" Anna called. "I order you to make Kristoff let me go!"

"Sorry, Your Highness," the guard replied, waving over his shoulder. "First thing's first. I'll be finding the queen, then."

Anna scowled petulantly, watching him leave, prompting a chuckle from Kristoff at the look on her face. Anna decided that first thing back in Arendelle she was going to get _lessons_ on avoiding adorable when she was aiming for serious. It was getting out of hand.

"Elsa's fine, Anna," Kristoff said, gently putting her down. "Just give her time."

"How much time?"

"An hour."

"That's what you said an hour ago!"

"Actually that was more like three minutes ago, but good try."

Anna crossed her arms beneath her chest, tapping her foot. She peered up at him with narrowed eyes. "Fine. One hour."

"If she's not back then, I promise I'll saddle a horse for you myself. And Sven. I mean, not a horse for Sven. Or a saddle, I guess, he doesn't like them. I mean I'll go with you."

Expression softening, she quieted his rambling with a peck on his cheek. "Thank you."

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck, face flushed. "I'm worried about her, too. This whole place gives me the creeps."

"Me, too," Anna agreed. "Come on, if I'm going to wait around I don't want to wear a rut into the ground pacing at the door. Besides, the paint job here gives me a headache." She grabbed him by the hand, pulling him towards the outer corridors of the town hall.

"Where are we going?"

"To keep my cousin company," Anna declared. Some part of her longed to be with family, however distant and unknown. And unconscious, but that was partly the point. If she was going to worry about so many people at once, she might as well be with at least one of them.

They found the bedroom just as they'd left it, empty but for the young girl wasting away beneath the blankets. Anna moved through the room, turning up the lamps to chase away the depressing gloom. The light even made the princess seem a bit livelier, calling some color back into her cheeks. She was not sleeping as easily as before. A faint sheen of perspiration was on her brow, and her auburn hair lay about her head in dull, oily tangles. Her hands were shaking almost imperceptibly, and she shifted restlessly, exhaling with tiny whimpers. The skin around her eyes was tight, her mouth twisted into a pained grimace.

"The doctor's still not back?" Kristoff wondered. "I hope he gets here soon. Whatever that medicine was, it looks like she needs it."

Anna claimed the only chair, taking one of the princess' hands in hers, stroking the delicate flesh of her fingers. The gesture seemed to soothe her, at least a bit. "I've never had a cousin before. Or a step-cousin. I've never known any family, really, except for Elsa and my parents."

Kristoff stood next to the chair, one hand resting on Anna's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

"I wonder if that's why I've always loved to be around people, even strangers. Sharing stories, telling jokes, smiling and complaining, laughing and crying… I'd never been so happy as I was in that moment the gates opened and I saw a _crowd_. Until now. I have a cousin, and that makes me even happier."

"I've got family to spare," said Kristoff. "I could always lend you a few. We know they like you."

Anna laughed, even as she blinked back tears. She reached up to grab Kristoff's hand in hers, tilting her head to rest atop their linked fingers. "I'm scared, Kristoff. I don't want to lose her." Anna didn't know if she was talking about Seraphim, Elsa, or both.

They were silent for a time. The only sounds in the room were the faint sputter of the lamps and the princess' shallow breathing. They heard footsteps coming down the hall outside, stumbling and uneven. Anna turned towards the sound, curious.

Simon, the doctor who had come upon them during their first visit to the princess' bedside, lurched into view, leaning heavily against the frame of the door. Anna leapt from the chair, at his side in a heartbeat.

The man was deathly pale and sweating profusely. His breath was heavy and ragged, and his legs were shaking nearly too much to stand, even propped against the doorframe. His eyes were bloodshot and a sickly shade of yellow. Anna frowned as she grasped his elbow to help steady him. She would have sworn his eyes had been green.

Kristoff appeared at his other side, taking the elbow opposite Anna as they guided him into the chair. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"The queen told me to bring the m-m-medicine," Simon gasped. He pulled a phial from his pocket, the liquid inside sloshing angrily with the shaking of his hand.

Anna gently took the glass container before he could drop it again. She gasped at the feel of his skin. His hands were clammy and cold as ice. Growing more concerned by the moment, she felt his forehead with the back of her wrist. Her eyes widened. The skin there felt like it was on fire. "You're burning up! Kristoff, we have to help him." She bent down, placing her face in front of the old man's, trying to get his attention. "I know you're the doctor, but is there anyone we can take you to? An assistant, maybe? Is there an apothecary in town?"

"N-n-no," he stammered, teeth chattering. "C-c-can't go. Queen s-s-said… Have to give the princess her m-m-m-mmph…"

"Medicine?" Anna said, glancing at the vial she'd placed on the nightstand. "Okay. If you tell me how, maybe I can give her the medicine, then we can get you—"

"No!" the old man barked with sudden lucidity, his eyes wide and bright.

Anna flinched back with a gasp. His eyes were changing color, green and yellow and green again, jumping back and forth as though a pane of colored glass was flicking in and out of place in front of them.

"N-n-n-no more!" he growled fiercely. His fists clenched, pounding at his knees like a child throwing a tantrum.

Seraphim's agitated rest was growing more disturbed by the noise. She tossed and turned now, whimpering piteously, the sheets tangling across her legs. Anna glanced nervously back and forth between the girl and her doctor. "I think she needs the medicine," she suggested helplessly.

"NO!" Simon roared, throwing himself out of the chair, crawling away from the bed, limbs rattling like twigs trying to stand in an earthquake. He curled into a ball in the corner, as far away from the bed as he could get. His eyes were wide and terrible, tears streaming down to mix in the sweat pouring from his face. "N-n-not m-m-m-m-medicine!" he gasped. His gaze pierced Anna with painful, frantic intensity. "S-s-s-sedative!"

He seemed to crumble into a boneless heap with the effort of that single word, panting with exhaustion. Anna and Kristoff shared a look of utter shock.

"Oh, Simon," a voice said from the hallway. Queen Catalina strode serenely into the bedroom, looking down at the crumpled old man with an almost pitying expression. She bent down, feeling his forehead just as Anna had.

"The fever consumes you so, and after only a week? I never thought you would fight me so fiercely."

Anna felt fear mixing in with her confusion. She stared at Catalina. "What's wrong with him?"

The queen turned to look at her, frowning sadly. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this," she said. Anna wasn't sure if the woman was even speaking to her. The queen's gaze drifted to the princess tossing and turning upon the bed, drawn by the sound of her muffled cries and labored breathing. "Damn you, old man. How long has it been since you even gave her a dose?"

On the floor, Simon only whimpered.

"I had hoped for the girl to waste away peacefully. It was less suspicious that way. No matter." Her eyes flared brilliantly, glowing like embers beneath her dark brows. "Do as I say. Give her the sedative. All of it."

Simon's body spasmed with a single choked gasp. The old man stood up. "Yes, Your Majesty," he declared. His voice was firm, his stuttering hesitation gone, his tremors vanished. His eyes were afire, yellow tongues of flame licking out, consuming his lashes and eyebrows in little puffs, the skin blackening and crackling and smoking. He moved towards the bed.

"No!" Anna gasped, interposing herself between the man and her cousin. She shoved him backwards, and the doctor stumbled for a moment before resuming his single-minded pursuit of the vial on the nightstand. Anna threw herself at him, trying to fight him back. Without so much as a glance, he grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her over the bed and into the opposite wall. Anna struck the dressing table with a puff of expelled air. The flimsy wood crumpled beneath her, mirror shattering in a chorus of raining glass.

Kristoff roared, charging the doctor and hauling him bodily over a shoulder, crushing him into the narrow stretch of wall in the corner by the door. The old man's head snapped back against the wall with an audible crack.

Anna shook her head, blinking the stars from her eyes. She watched Kristoff drop the doctor into a heap on the floor, where he lay unmoving. The fire had gone out in his eyes, leaving only two charred pits of flesh.

"Well, this is inconvenient," Catalina grumbled unconcernedly, eyeing Kristoff with a look of distaste. Her hands were clasped in front of her bodice, as though she merely stood in observation to a bothersome faux pas at a mundane social gathering.

Kristoff stalked towards her, growling as he rolled up his sleeves. "I don't know what you did to him, but don't think I won't hurt you if I have to."

The queen smiled, eyes flashing. "I doubt that. Guards!" she called, stepping back.

Two men charged in from the hallway behind her, tackling Kristoff around his waist. The burly young man was not so easy to stop, however. He shrugged one man off with a quick elbow to the back of his head, pushing the second back as he struggled to get at Catalina.

She rolled her eyes. "Really. You are a feisty one." She waved over her shoulder, and two more men burst in.

Men in the green uniforms and tall caps of the Arendelle guard. Anna gaped at them. "Martin?" She blinked with confusion, but there was no mistaking that pair of bushy grey sideburns. "Martin, stop! What are you doing?" There was no response from a man who should have been obeying Princess Anna of Arendelle, not the Queen Regent of Kristensand.

The three of them wrestled with Kristoff, who struggled for a moment until the man he'd knocked to the floor wrapped around his legs, toppling all five of them into a heap on the floor. "Kristoff!" Anna screamed. She tried to get up, wincing as shards of glass from the broken mirror bit into her palms. She ignored the pain, surging to her feet and clambering around the broken furniture.

"Hold him!" Catalina barked. The guards wrenched Kristoff to his feet, restraining him by arms and legs and hair. Still he struggled, but four grown men were not so easy to throw off.

Anna threw herself at Catalina, arms flailing wildly. "Leave him alone!"

The queen – older, taller, and not to be bested by a panicked eighteen-year-old – brushed Anna aside with an almost negligent thrust of her shoulder. Anna stumbled into the hallway, falling in a heap of her skirt.

Catalina walked up to Kristoff, who was glaring at her murderously, blood trickling from a swollen lip and one eye already blackening. She smiled. "Look into my eyes," she cooed, golden orbs flaring with red-orange light. Wisps of flame drifted from her eyes and into Kristoff's. Anna watched in horror as Kristoff's struggles lessened and finally ceased. The flames faded from Catalina's eyes. The guards released him, and he stood there blinking at her.

The queen turned to Anna. "Don't feel bad," she said, smiling wickedly. "When you've grown up a bit, you might learn what it's like to win a man's heart with a look. It's a wonderful feeling, knowing no man can resist you."

Anna ignored her, eyes only for him. She sat there, blinking back tears. "Kristoff?"

He looked at her when she called his name, brown eyes staring back with painful indifference. "Yes?" he asked, in a tone as though he were speaking to a stranger. She saw none of the light she so loved in his eyes, and none of his love in return. It hurt so much that Anna did the only thing she could think of. She ran.

"After her!" the queen's voice rang out.

Anna sprinted for the way out. She had to get away, get outside. The men outside might still be free of Catalina's sway. She could take Sven, find Elsa… Elsa! Had the queen done something to her? Was that why she hadn't returned? The sudden burst of fear almost stole the strength from her legs. She left bloody palm prints on the walls as she stumbled around the corner, half-falling down the stairs to the first floor.

Barging down the corridor, she made for the archway at the end of the hall. Through it was the door outside, and her best chance at escape. As she rounded that last corner between herself and freedom, Anna nearly ran over Commander Ulbrecht. She bounced off him with a yelp, his craggy, suspicious face the last one she wanted to see at the moment. Several pairs of footsteps were thundering down the hall behind her. She tried to stumble around the commander, but he grabbed her by the elbow. He took in her bleeding hands, eyes narrowing. "You're hurt," he said, looking up to take in the four guards and Kristoff. "You men, what are you doing, hounding the princess like this?"

"Queen's orders," one of the Kristensand guards barked impatiently, reaching for Anna.

Anna suddenly found herself pulled, not ungently, behind Ulbrecht. "I serve the queen," he growled. "But you serve _me_. Stand down."

"Ah, Commander," Catalina's voice called. She was striding calmly down the hall towards them. "You've found the princess, good."

"Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this?"

"Now is a very inopportune moment to start asking questions, Ulbrecht," she said warningly.

He scowled. "And why is that, Your Majesty?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. "No man can question my loyalty, but I am sworn to the royal family of Kristensand. You walk dangerously close to the edge of your authority."

"Authority?" Catalina barked a laugh. "I am the queen!"

Ulbrecht's scowl turned into a derisive sneer so intense even Anna flinched. She thought she had managed to annoy the man on more than one occasion, but oh, how wrong she'd been. "My queen lies in bed above us. You may call her princess, but in Prince Uriel's absence, Seraphim is by rights the ruler of Kristensand, Queen _Regent_." He spat the last word like a curse. "Now tell me why men are pursuing a wounded girl, a guest of the crown no less, through our halls like a criminal."

"I knew you were too stubborn to be useful forever," the queen sighed. She looked at Kristoff. "Boy, get the princess." She turned to the guardsmen. "You four, deal with him."

Anna felt herself thrown back. Ulbrecht's sword rang from its scabbard. She didn't waste time spectating as the battle was joined, and made her break for the exit, Kristoff hard on her heels.

She reached the double doors, sliding the last several feet and catching herself with one of the handles. She could hear Kristoff running up behind her. Desperately, she made her push for freedom.

The door was locked.

She howled with frustration, yanking and rattling the door on its hinges, but it refused to open. She pounded a fist against the wood, but then found herself lifted bodily by a pair of strong arms and slung over a shoulder.

"Put me _down!_" Anna screamed, flailing with both arms and both legs, catching Kristoff solidly on the temple with an elbow. As he stumbled, she dropped off his shoulder, falling to the floor in a heap.

"Anna?" he muttered groggily, shaking his head. "What…?"

"Kristoff!" she gasped.

"Anna, you've… got to run," he muttered. "I can hear her in my head. Feel her in my chest."

"No! I won't leave you with her!" She scrambled over, trying to help him up. He looked at her helplessly, eyes flashing from brown to gold.

"You don't have a choice, girl," Queen Catalina said, gliding towards them. Anna could still hear the ringing clash of swords from the hallway behind her. "My fires burn within his heart. The more you make him fight it, the faster you'll lose him."

Anna jumped as the doors behind them thundered on their hinges, struck by something from the outside. The queen looked unconcerned. Kristoff was still dazed. He looked at her blearily, trying to focus. He stared at her hands.

"You're hurt," he muttered. "Who hurt you?"

"Foolish boy. Don't waste your life pining for that slip of a princess. Do as I say!"

The doors shook again with a tremendous bang.

Kristoff started shivering, the color of his eyes flickering wildly, changing from brown to yellow and back too fast to tell what shade they were at any moment. He was sweating profusely.

"Fight her, Kristoff!" Anna begged, shaking him by the shoulders to try to get him to focus on her voice, on her face. She placed her hands on his cheeks, not caring for an instant how her cuts burned at the touch of his sweat, or the bloody tracks she left as she desperately tried to pull him back to her.

"Silly girl. You can't fight fire."

Another impact rocked the doors, which groaned with an ominous _crack_. Anna didn't hear it. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat, Kristoff's delirious mumbling, and the thunderous simplicity of an idea. "Can't fight fire? Sure I can," she said, suddenly smiling through her tears. She looked at Kristoff, fear clenching in her chest. She couldn't lose him. She loved him. "With fire."

She kissed him.

Another sharp _bang_ rang out as the doors began to splinter at the hinges, but that was nothing against the great deep pulse that filled air itself. It echoed in Anna's stomach, popped against her ears, and surged deep within her chest to tear the bonds of desperation strangling her heart.

Kristoff kissed her back.

She had never felt anything so wonderful and surprising and right. She drew back, relief surging through her as she saw Kristoff, brown eyes gleaming and a grin so silly plastered on his face that it made her want to kiss him again.

"Impossible," Queen Catalina gasped.

The door exploded.

Anna hid her face against the hail of chips and splinters that pelted her, draping herself over Kristoff to shield his body. Eyes shut tight, she heard a tremendous honking bellow and the pounding of hooves on the granite floor.

"Sven!" Kristoff shouted.

Catalina stood gaping at the reindeer that had just broken down her gates. "Is this a joke?"

Sven stamped and snorted, lowering his antlers threateningly. It was most certainly not a joke to him. Anna had never seen the gentle animal so angry. Eyes narrowed, the reindeer glanced from side to side as three guards ran up behind the queen. They were slashed and battered and shabby, but well-armed. Sven inched backwards as they approached, swords at the ready and more than a match for a lone reindeer in a cramped hallway.

More footsteps thundered down the corridor from behind. Anna turned, seeing another half-dozen guards in Kristensand gold rushing to surround them. The door was wide open, but Kristoff was exhausted from his struggle against Catalina's magic. He could barely lift his head, let alone stand, and there was no way Anna could haul him onto Sven's back by herself. She thought desperately for some means of escape, but found none.

"Give up, princess," the queen demanded. "You can't escape. Your men are under my control, and I have dozens of guards at my command. You stand alone."

A shout rang out. "Not quite."

A burst of frigid air blasted through the shattered doorway, a plane of ice crackling to life beneath their feet. In a flourish of turquoise frost that snapped in the wind like supple velvet, Queen Elsa of Arendelle blew into the hall. She stood before Catalina, resplendent in her ice gown, cold anger burning in her ice-blue eyes. "Get away from my sister, you scheming witch."

.

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.

.

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* * *

***A/N*** - Reply to a question in a review from Olafqhace (sorry, I can't reply directly to guest reviews): There are many causes of fire apart from magic, especially in a region suffering from two years of constant drought. Elsa doesn't ask Uriel if he started the fire, only if he's responsible for it. Considering his brother has just died, he's just learned his sister is comatose, and he's been trying for two years to lift an eternal summer he believes he's unwittingly summoned, Uriel is not in a sound mental state to logically apportion blame. Even if he wasn't playing with matches, so to speak, he still blames himself for the fire happening.

This is now the most-reviewed fic I've written to date, so I would like to take a moment and thank all of you who have taken time to share your thoughts with me. Interacting with the fellow fans of each movie, book, or series is what makes publishing on FFnet so rewarding. I'll take time to recognize everyone properly once the fic is concluded. For now, thank you all!

**Edit 1/4/14** - Changed Elsa's word choice in the closing line to better reflect her personality. Apologies to those who rightly pointed out the original use of profanity was OOC.


	10. Chapter Ten: Inferno

**CHAPTER TEN**

**Inferno**

A single moment of stunned silence greeted Elsa upon her return to the Kristensand town hall. Catalina, however, was not on her heels for long.

"So you did survive. I thought as much. But I see you've brought me a gift! Hello, Uriel."

"Your Majesty," the prince replied with courtesy as cool as the ice beneath their feet.

"Come now, is that any way to greet your dear stepmother?"

"No, but what I'd like to say is not fit for company. There are ladies present, yourself not included."

"Why did you do this, Catalina?"

"You forget your courtesies, Queen Elsa." The older woman regarded her with narrowed eyes. "I permitted you to address me without my style, but not to forget that I am a queen."

"You're a despicable, manipulative usurper," Uriel growled.

"Oh, Uriel. You never did like me nearly as much as your father."

"You enthralled him for two years. I may not have liked you, but this?"

"You give me too little credit. Christian truly did love me in the beginning. The poor, lonely old man. He took a great deal of convincing to declare himself king, of course. But by then I had what I wanted."

"He never loved you. How could he? He never knew what you were."

"What I am?" Catalina smiled, sickly sweet. "Don't you mean what we are? No need to put me on a pedestal."

"The eternal summer was never my doing, was it?"

She laughed. "Of course not. Though the circumstances did provide me with such a delicious opportunity. All I wanted when I came here was a title and respect, even if it was just a dowager… I never dreamed it would result in a crown of my own!"

"You're not queen yet. Not while I or any of my family draw breath in Kristensand!"

"Oh you dear, foolish boy," she hissed, eyes shining. "What do you think I set fire to the castle for?"

Uriel's eyes widened, shock stretching the angry red scars on the ruined half of his face. "You monster!" he roared.

"The people will never follow you," said Elsa. "They'll know the truth now."

"You really think so? I grant you, it would have been much cleaner if the princess had wasted away in her sleep and Uriel had vanished in disgrace… but I suppose I'll have to settle for stopping a murderous coup by the accursed Black Prince and his frozen concubine. Guards! Rally to your queen!" The soldiers in the hallway rushed to obey, surrounding Catalina in a ring of bared steel. "The summer will end when I kill you, and what will the people care for how? You'll find no friends here."

Elsa smiled. "Don't be so sure." She held out her hands, fingers splayed. Streams of blue light lit the hall, gusts of cold wind swirling into a dozen tiny cyclones. Man-shaped constructs of snow and ice sprang into existence, snowmen wearing the long coats and tall hats of Arendelle guards, long blunt icicles grasped like staves in their blocky white fists.

The two forces stared each other down for an instant before charging, the guards shouting battle cries, the golems crackling and crunching with every step. They crashed into a furious melee in the entrance of Kristensand's town hall.

Elsa left her creations to their duties, wasting no time as she sought out Anna and Kristoff in the chaos. The ice harvester was on the ground, bruised and exhausted but otherwise unharmed. Her sister was standing over him protectively, and Sven was watching over them both, antlers pointed dangerously at anyone who came too close.

"Anna! You've to get out of here!"

"And you've got to be kidding me!"

Elsa took her sister by the shoulders. "You have to spread word in the city about what's going on. Tell them about Catalina, and keep them away from here! I don't want anyone to get hurt."

Anna shook her head, red pigtails waving defiantly. "I'm not leaving you here to face down that crazy lady alone!"

"I'm hardly alone. Anna, please. Kristoff is in no shape to be here. You have to get him to safety."

Her sister looked down to where Kristoff was struggling in vain to get to his feet. She glanced back and forth between him and Elsa, anguish plain on her face. "Help me get him up," she said at last.

Sven knelt on his forelegs, and that was just enough for the two of them together to lift Kristoff onto the reindeer's back. Anna climbed up after him, holding Kristoff tightly about the waist to keep him from falling off. "You'd better be here when I get back!" Anna shouted. And with a chorus of hooves on the steps of the town hall, she was gone.

The battle between the guards and the snowmen was in full force. Elsa's constructs had the advantage, not only because they were resistant to weapons and immune to pain, but because they were fighting to disable their opponents and using their own bodies as weapons. They were smothering the guards in piles of snow, freezing them to the ground, to the walls, and to each other.

Uriel was at her side. In his left hand was a long rapier, its cupped hilt fashioned into a likeness of the sun. One of Catalina's guards broke through to charge them with a howl. Before Elsa could stop him with a blast of her magic, Uriel stepped forward, parrying the man's wild swing and halting his momentum with a series of lightning-quick thrusts. Without full use of his burned right leg, Uriel's sideways stance forced him to attack rather than defend in order to keep weight on his front foot. He drove the guard back with a flurry. The man backpedaled straight into one of the golems, which took the opportunity to disintegrate, bringing the guard to the ground in a confining heap of rapidly freezing snow.

He proved to be the last of Catalina's beguiled servants still standing. Elsa strode forward, heels clicking on the frozen stone. "Release these men," she ordered. "No one needs to get hurt."

"Only death will free those men from my flames," Catalina declared. She was pacing inside the wide archway that opened into the great hall, her golden dress swishing back and forth with every agitated turn. "And you'll have to do better than a few snowmen if you want to stop me!" She thrust out her right arm, and with a rumbling crackle a column of fire burst forth from her fingers.

Elsa dove to the side, feeling a wave of searing heat wash over her as the flames blasted through the air where she had been standing. She rolled as another burst of magical fire slammed into the ground next to her, ice gown ringing as the slashed skirt twirled around her feet. Stopping her tumble, she propped herself up with an elbow and held out her free hand. With furious concentration, she summoned a blast of ice that intercepted a third strike from Catalina, the two columns of magic annihilating each other with a roaring hiss and a burst of steam.

Catalina was giving ground, backing into the open space of the audience chamber, sending gouts of flame with both hands. Scrambling on her hands and knees, Elsa hid behind the edge of the archway. The last of her snow soldiers had been reduced to nothing more than piles of slush in the attack, but the magical ice restraining the charmed guards was still holding.

Uriel was sheltered behind the wall on the opposite side of the archway from Elsa. Another pillar of fire split the air between them. At their backs, the remnants of the battered door were snapping like burning twigs, and a few of the wooden beams that framed the main entrance were smoking. With a wave, Elsa extinguished the fires scattered through the entrance hall in a burst of cold air. She looked to Uriel. "Can you do anything about her flames? Contain them?"

"No," he said. "I can't influence fires that large and intense."

"I have to stop her, then." Elsa tensed, moving to peer around the edge of the wall.

"Majesty, wait! You won't stand a chance if she can focus her powers on you. If you go out there alone, she'll burn you to a crisp!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"We both go. I can at least distract her, give her something else to worry about."

"That's crazy! I have my ice, but you'll be a sitting duck!"

"I'm not that helpless." Uriel raised his rapier as if in salute. His eyes were filled with light, and with a faint hiss the metal of the weapon began glowing a fierce orange. The air around it shimmered with waves of radiant warmth. "I can stand a little heat. And I'm following you out either way."

Elsa wanted to protest further, but the cruel truth was she had little chance against Catalina on her own. Her strongest ice, like the thick blocks she'd used to build her tower, could probably weather the other woman's flames for a short while, but Elsa needed time and concentration to summon them. "I'll try to make us some cover," she said. The prince nodded.

They dashed around the corners and into the audience chamber. Elsa ducked beneath a fireball aimed at her head, skirting as close to the walls of the chamber as she could. Holding out her hands, she summoned two steady streams of magical ice, trying to build up shelter for an approach against Catalina. If one or both of them could reach the queen without fear of her fire, they might have a chance to incapacitate her. The flimsy barriers Elsa could create in the short time she had were little more than thin, ablative shields, shattering into slush or bursting into steam with a single strike of Catalina's flames.

They found themselves under fire, literally. Every missed strike was setting ablaze anything and everything that would host a flame. Chairs and benches burned like campfires scattered across the ground. Tapestries and banners smoldered wherever they hung. The floors and walls were stone, but the high arched frames that supported the ceiling were all wooden beams. Their lower edges were already starting to catch, and smoke was filling the vaulted spaces beneath the roof with a black haze.

Grunting with frustration and blinking away the sweat of several near-misses, Elsa realized they were not making any progress. The room was already uncomfortably warm, and getting worse. The heat grew more intense the closer they got to Catalina. The queen's golden dress was smoldering on her body, and Elsa watched with horror as parts of it caught into open flame. But even as the fabric was consumed, the fire remained, seething around Catalina in thick whorls of white and brilliant orange.

"You can do nothing to douse the fires raging in the hearts of those that I've claimed!" she bellowed. "What hope do you have against the inferno that lives in _me?_" Her hair vanished in a burst of light, the deep brown consumed and replaced by thousands of filaments of red flame.

Above them the rafters were burning like torches, their old wood baked by near two years of constant, arid summer. Thick beams were wrapped in writhing blankets of bright blue heat. The planks that formed the base of the roof were groaning and cracking as the blaze washed over them.

"Stop this!" Elsa had to shout to be heard over the roar that surrounded them. "You'll burn down the whole city!"

"I will rule this city! If I must do so as queen of the ashes, then so be it!"

"No!" With a howl of rage, Uriel ran at Catalina, leaping from his cover of ice to rush at her back, rapier pulled back to strike. The woman rounded on him, summoning a ball of fire and throwing it straight at him. The prince's charge faltered as he raised his weapon to parry. The thin blade did little to block the magical fire, and he was thrown backwards, body and clothes smoking.

"Uriel!" Elsa screamed. With a wave, she sent a blast of cold air and snow to extinguish the tiny fires scattered over his still form. That moment of panicked action nearly proved fatal. She felt and heard the raging wave of flame surging towards her even before she saw it. In a desperate burst of magic, she began conjuring a barrier of ice before her, glittering blue streams of ice pouring from both hands.

Fire met ice in a terrible roar, and Elsa could feel the waves of blistering heat that seared the air behind her tenuous shield. Her gown was crackling and popping, and she could feel moisture on her skin that was cooler than the rivers of sweat already covering her. She grit her teeth, putting everything she could into her magic, freeing her powers in a way she had not done since forging her refuge on the slopes of the north mountain. It was still not enough. The blue wall before her was slowly but surely giving way under the fiery onslaught, the edges of the ice falling away in rivulets of meltwater faster than she could replenish them.

A sound rose, heard among even the growl of flame and frantic jingling of ice. The whole building shook, and even in the midst of her desperate battle of attrition, Elsa found her terrified gaze drawn by the new surge of noise. With a chorus of _snaps_ that rattled her teeth, she watched as a part of the roof gave way with a thunderous groan. A jumble of flaming rafters, girders, planks and shingles came down in a single, massive tumble.

Catalina looked up with a startled gasp just as they fell upon her.

The flames assailing Elsa stopped as the queen vanished beneath the crushing, burning debris. For a moment, Elsa could only stare in sheer, stunned silence at the bonfire of rubble in the middle of the meeting hall. Her wits returned when another loud rumble shook the building. With a quick thought and a deep breath, she sent out a tremendous stream of freezing air. The wind howled through the open space of the audience chamber, beating at the flames with frigid determination. The fires twisted, sputtered, and finally faltered. They left only smoking patches and charred wood.

Gasping and trembling with fatigue, Elsa surveyed the damage with a discerning eye. The building was hardly safe, but at least with the fires out it was not in imminent danger of crushing her and Uriel. Uriel! Eyes wide, she searched for the prince. He was still lying in a heap of black clothing on the far side of the wreckage. But before she could even take a step towards him, Elsa was frozen in terror.

The pile of wreckage was moving.

Charred beams were stirring. Burned shingles tumbled down in a rain of soot. Puffs of ash appeared as wooden girders shifted, crumbling into pieces of charcoal. Elsa caught a glimpse of orange light, and for a second she wondered if there were merely some flames that had survived deep in the cocoon of debris. No. The light was moving, too. With a great heave, part of the mass gave way, and a thing in the shape of a human rose to its feet.

It was Catalina.

Her fiery dress was extinguished. Her skin, once a vibrant bronze, was black as soot and covered her like a brittle crust. Lines of orange light glowed like veins across the cracked surface. What might have been her hair was a blazing mass that glowed a dull red. It oozed in clumps down her back that sparked and sizzled as they broke apart and were exposed to fresh air. Two eyes, fiery orange and burning with tongues of open flame, stared at Elsa.

She took a horrified step back, bile surging sourly into the back of her throat.

"I will not be so easily beaten," a voice called out. It popped and crackled like an old log in a hearth fire. The abomination raised her arms and turned her head. She examined herself, flaming eyes narrowed. "Magic grows constantly within its wielder. Our bodies were not made to contain such power. Eventually, we become something else. Something more."

The thing that had been Catalina stepped forward. The stone of the floor became molten beneath her feet. The heat emanating from her was stifling.

Elsa gave ground, terrified and unable to inhale the searing air as Catalina stepped closer. Elsa coughed as the noxious reek of sulfur overwhelmed her, blinking against the haze that distorted the atmosphere. She sent a blast of ice at Catalina. It sublimated into steam before even reaching her, and the monster moved forward, uncaring.

"Why so fearful, Your Majesty?" she asked. As she moved, obsidian skin cracked and broke apart with fissures to reveal the orange light beneath. "This is the fate of all who would use magic. Embrace it! Relish it! We wither and die, but the power is eternal."

"No," Elsa gasped. Her legs pushed her away. Even that small motion was a struggle. Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to run. "I don't believe you." Fighting back her fear, she summoned a wall between them, one as thick and strong as her magic could possibly make. Elsa watched with horror as it boiled away, great chunks of ice sloughing into puddles merely by getting within arm's reach of the monster's radiant heat.

"Do you think your magic is immune? Ice consumes, just as surely as fire. Snow buries cities with an avalanche. Glaciers wear away entire mountains with their inexorable drift."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? Has your power not grown within you?" The monstrosity still strode towards Elsa. "A simple frost can steal the life from any living thing caught in its grip. Look at your pretty little dress: cold already cannot touch you. Soon, those you care for will be unable to either. A hug from your sister will leave her frostbitten. A lover's kiss will freeze their lips into brittle glass. Bit by bit, the warmth of your blood will fade, leaving you a walking sculpture, unfeeling and heartless."

The sight of Anna, frozen into a statue of pure blue ice, flashed before her eyes. "No!" Elsa shouted. She felt her retreat halt as she glared defiantly at the queen. Catalina finally stopped beneath the ferocity of Elsa's gaze. "I have magic, but it will never consume me. My powers are a part of me, but they are not all that I am."

A frigid gale rose, beating back the engulfing heat emanating from Catalina. Pure, crisp air filled Elsa's lungs as she stared down the molten thing before her.

New images flashed before her eyes. A soft white rain fell upon the people of Arendelle, their cheeks glowing as they skated around the castle courtyard. "I am snow, but I will never smother." A tower rose upon the side of a mountain, glittering white and red and orange in the sunrise. "I am frost, but I will never bite." Kai and Gerda welcomed her from her room with smiles. Kristoff handed Sven a carrot as the reindeer nuzzled his arm. Anna ran towards her, smiling and laughing. "And my heart will never freeze, because _I _love!"

Catalina laughed, sparks bursting from the depths of her glowing red throat. "And what good will love do against me?" she spat. "I am fire! I am eternal! _I am the sun!_"

"No," a voice said from behind her. "I am."

The point of a rapier emerged from Catalina's molten chest, glowing white-hot as it pierced her burning heart. Prince Uriel stumbled back, clothes smoking from mere proximity to her heat. Elsa could see the unscarred portion of his face blistering.

Catalina gasped, curling in on herself, clutching at the blade of glowing metal buried in her chest. The gasp turned into a hiss, which grew louder and higher with each passing moment. The veins of molten magic were getting brighter, new fissures appearing all across her obsidian figure as she shook and convulsed. When she opened her mouth to scream, no sound emerged, only a belch of thick, red magma.

The hissing was painfully loud, like a pot left so long to boil that it was about to burst. Prince Uriel tried to move back, but fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the heat. "Majesty!" he shouted. "Get down!"

Elsa complied in desperation, summoning a barrier of ice that surrounded her body. She did so a split-second before the elemental magic contained in what had been the Queen Regent of Kristensand detonated in a furious rain of red-hot power.

The sound of the explosion faded. Elsa dismissed her shield, sending out waves of freezing air to cool the spots where fragments of burning material had landed. Of Catalina, or the thing she had become, Elsa saw no other sign.

What she did spot, with a gasp of horror, was Prince Uriel.

The Black Prince's fine clothing was a mass of charred rags, and his body was a smoking ruin. Every bit of exposed flesh was terribly burned, red and black and bleeding. He was breathing in short, sharp gasps.

"Uriel!" The shout surprised Elsa, because it did not come from her. A girl was leaning against the wall at the edge of the chamber, dressed in a red nightgown. Her feet were bare, her legs and arms thin as reeds, and her shoulder-length auburn hair was matted and disheveled. She pushed herself off from the wall, stumbling across the room in a weary-legged sprint. She was heedless of the debris, some of which was still smoldering, nearly falling more than once in her haste. Elsa moved to help her, but the girl brushed past, not even seeing her. She fell to her knees at the prince's side.

"Sera?" he groaned.

"It's me, Uri." She reached two trembling hands towards his face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled against the desire to touch his scorched flesh.

"You're awake…"

She nodded desperately. "Yes. Please, brother, hang on! I'll…" she seemed to lose her way as she struggled to find some words that would serve to comfort him.

Elsa heard a gasp from behind her. Anna and Kristoff had returned. The ice harvester was leaning against Sven, wearing a look of determination not to let the effort of standing show, and Anna was holding his hand. Elsa nearly fainted with relief at the sight of them. Through the arched entrance, the guards that Elsa's snow soldiers had incapacitated were shambling in as well. They looked disoriented and exhausted, but it seemed their minds and hearts were once again their own.

"It's all right," Uriel reassured his sister. His voice was growing softer, and his breaths were growing shallower. "You're safe, little sunset… that's enough."

"No it's not! I can't lose you, too!" Seraphim cried. "I don't want to be alone."

The prince called out weakly. "Your Majesty?"

Elsa was there in two quick strides. "I'm here," she said. The words made her feel like an intruder.

"Please… look after her. I've no one… else to ask."

"I will," Elsa promised, meaning it with every fiber of her being. "She'll be safe, I swear it. Thanks to you, the eternal summer is over."

"Good. Hate… summer." His voice was almost inaudible. His breaths were so shallow they had all but stopped. But even so it seemed the prince was trying to smile. "Always… loved… the snow."

He gave a sigh that was almost peaceful, and then Prince Uriel was gone.

Seraphim fell against his chest, her body shaking. "No…" she whispered in slow, hiccoughing sobs. Elsa's face fell. This was not the end she would have chosen. As she looked upon Seraphim – her cousin, a grieving sister – her mind raged at the injustice of it all.

Blinking back tears, Elsa raised an arm towards the sky. Through the hole where part of the roof had collapsed, the stars were shining. They were joined by a glimmer of magic, and then by something else.

In a slow, steady rain, snow began to fall.

The flakes fluttered down in ones and twos, landing amidst the rubble of the town hall and alighting on those who stood within. Each tiny fractal seemed to persist, even when it had no right to. The heat of the ground did not affect them. The dying embers did not melt them. Even the warmth of bare skin held no power over them.

Elsa felt her sister stand beside her. She looked as exhausted as Elsa felt. Anna leaned against her shoulder, hugging her around her right arm. "Your hands," Elsa said numbly. Dozens of tiny cuts covered Anna's palms and fingers, some already crusted with dried blood.

"I'll be fine," Anna said, staring at her hand as though it belonged to someone else. The sisters watched a single snowflake land upon Anna's upraised palm. The younger girl sucked in a surprised breath. "It's warm." The flake rested there, pulsing with soft white light that spread across her hand.

The cuts began to heal.

Flesh knit whole beneath a slow wave of icy white radiance. The crusted blood faded into smaller and smaller fragments, revealing the pure, unmarred skin beneath.

"Elsa?" Anna's head was flicking back and forth, as though she couldn't decide whether her hand or her sister deserved her surprised scrutiny more. "How…?"

Elsa could only shake her head. She watched as more snowflakes fell, their incongruous warmth and light washing across her face and arms and legs. In the heat of battle she'd acquired half a hundred tiny scratches and burns. They were fading like bad dreams.

_Magic is a part of the world, not any one person_, a voice whispered in Elsa's mind. _It binds us all, none more so than those who wield it._ She saw a hand held above her stomach, pulsing with white light; white light that had also seemed to be coming from her. A shiver ran through Elsa's body. She looked at Uriel.

His body was glowing.

Seraphim sat up, staring in stunned silence. The ruinous burns covering her brother's body, visible through his tattered clothing, were turning into smooth, unblemished skin. The masses of angry red blisters and blackened flesh on his face were healing. Even the old burns on the right side of his face and neck were becoming faded, less pronounced.

With a shuddering gasp of breath, Prince Uriel opened his eyes.

Elsa barely had time to notice the stunned disbelief in those two storm-grey orbs before they vanished again behind a mass of auburn hair. Seraphim threw herself once more upon her brother, but this time her tears and racking sobs were those of purest joy.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Succession

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**Succession**

Rain fell in fits and starts on the day they left Kristensand, though not a soul could be heard to utter a single word of complaint… about the weather, at least.

"Do we have to leave already?" Anna asked, not for the first time. The carriage crew was securing the baggage being loaded on the coach and Kristoff's sled. Once the leather tarps they were using to ward off the warm drizzle were tied down, there would be no more excuses left to delay their departure. All that would be left were the farewells.

"I told the council we wouldn't be away from Arendelle for more than a week," Elsa said. She'd explained it so many times that by now she felt she was rehearsing a line. "It's been almost three."

"And the castle's still standing, right?"

Elsa gave her sister a look. She tried for exasperation, but found she couldn't quite make it that far. She'd never give Anna an arrow in her quiver by saying it aloud, but she would have liked to stay a while longer herself. "Yes, but the world is still spinning at the same time. Minister Henrik's letter reminded me in no uncertain terms that my signature is required for the new trade accords with Denmark and Corona."

"Didn't you leave him with a fancy new pen? Just have him sign it."

"I really don't think that's a good habit to get into. Besides, there's also the matter of my authorization for Kristensand's payment for our winter supplies." With the magic fueling the drought gone, the countryside was flourishing at a rate that made it look like the crops were trying to make up for lost time. A few oddly focused snowfalls and conspicuously abundant sunshine had also provided a helping hand.

"Doesn't Sebastian handle the treasury?" Anna wondered.

Elsa tensed, but her sister's curiosity seemed like no more than idle interest. She'd never explained exactly where the money they were using to buy supplies was coming from. "Usually. This is a special case though. It's a rather large amount of money."

"Only because you won't let Sera give us what we need. It's rude to refuse a gift, you know."

"It's worse to accept more than what people are capable of giving, no matter how willingly." Elsa had resisted the entire agreement at first. It had taken a great deal of convincing from their cousins for Elsa to accept that Kristensand was recovering quickly enough to accommodate Arendelle's needs without hardship. "And you shouldn't call her that in public. At least try to call Her Majesty 'Queen Seraphim'."

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" A third voice joined the conversation, bright and cheerful. "I'm not even crowned yet," Seraphim protested. She was practically running down the steps towards them, carmine skirts swishing with every step. She was recovering faster than even the crops, her auburn hair gleaming in the fitful rays of sunshine that eked between the clouds.

"Sera!" Anna called. The two girls embraced like a pair of long-lost sisters. Elsa might have been jealous of how the two had grown so close so quickly, if not for how happy it made her to see Anna happy. It helped that she was becoming quite fond of the girl herself.

"Have you come to see us off?" Elsa wondered.

"No, I've come to try to convince you to stay. Failing that, I'm going to get you to take _my_ offer on the grain exchange, even if it means sending you a chest of gold marked 'refund' in great big, red letters."

"Your terms are already too generous," Elsa insisted. "You have a drought to recover from, as well as a castle and town hall to rebuild. If nothing else, your people deserve the payment we're offering."

Seraphim sighed. It was a rather dramatic gesture; she seemed to do nothing by halves. "It's a good thing we're friends _and_ relatives, or I don't think I'd put up with a neighbor who's so annoyingly right all the time." She turned to Anna. "Is she always like that?"

"I'm afraid so," Anna said, mock-seriously. "I'm trying my best, but there just doesn't seem to be a cure for it."

The two younger girls dissolved into a fit of giggles. Elsa managed to keep herself from laughing, though not from smiling. She rolled her eyes to make up the difference, but it didn't seem to have the desired effect.

"Are the two of you harassing Her Majesty again?" Idle hands were breeding, and Prince Uriel joined their little crowd as it milled in the square. He walked with no trace of his previous limp, stepping jauntily as he descended the steps from the town hall. He was clad in black from head to heel, save a golden sun sewn into the chest of his doublet. The hood of his cloak was drawn back, and his raven hair was tied into a ponytail, fully revealing his face. A faint but noticeable scarring still showed where the original burns had covered the right side of his head and neck. But the marks that he had once hidden behind a hood and an air of tattered chivalry were now borne proudly, a reminder of both the sister he had saved and the life restored to he himself.

"Not anymore," Seraphim said, smirking. "You make a much better target."

"Now, now, don't make sport of your inferiors," Uriel countered. "It's not queenly."

"The only reason I'm even taking the crown is so I can get you to stop saying you're not a prince anymore," she said, jabbing a finger at her brother's chest.

"The truth is out, but I doubt our people will ever completely trust me again. They've been hurt too badly by magic for that, even if it wasn't my own. It's for the best that I step aside."

"And let such an appropriate nickname go to waste?" Seraphim said. She smirked, grabbing a handful of her brother's cloak and tossing it back at him. "The people will have to get used to it, because I can't do this alone. I'll need your help. Besides, if you're going to insist on abdicating and giving me the crown, you'll have no authority to object if my first act is your reinstatement to royalty as my brother."

Uriel blinked. "That is… depressingly accurate. And disturbingly clever. Have I mentioned how much I missed you, little sunset?"

"Yes, Uri, I am indeed smarter than you," she said with a wicked grin. "But don't think that gets you out of trouble. You're also stuck being my chancellor."

He laughed aloud. "Sister, you are going to make a stupendous queen."

"Not for a while, yet. I'm still putting off the coronation as long as I can." She turned back to Elsa and Anna. "Things should be settled by next spring, for both our kingdoms. You'll come, won't you?"

"Of course," Elsa said. Anna was nodding eagerly.

A throat was cleared pointedly. Elsa turned, surprised and not at all pleased by who she saw standing behind her.

"Your Majesty," the Duke of Weselton said stiffly, before Elsa could form even the most cursory of pleasantries to greet him. She had avoided the man like the plague ever since Anna had informed her of his presence in the city. "I know you have no reason to listen to anything I have to say, but I would ask a moment of your time."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Very well."

"The stories I've been hearing would have been hard to credit, but I could see the fires from the room the queen regent had locked me in. I also saw just as plainly what put them out. I may have been… premature in my appraisal of you." He shifted nervously. "We may never be friends, but I would be… grateful if we were not enemies."

"You tried to have me killed, Your Grace. I can't forgive that," Elsa said, watching the duke's face fall. She sighed. "But life gives us too many unexpected enemies to make any more of our own out of stubbornness and pride."

The duke considered her words, and finally nodded. He had given her the closest thing to an apology he was likely to manage, and in turn she'd granted him as much forgiveness as she was able. It was a truce worth making. He bowed and moved on.

"Jerk," Anna grumbled.

"If he gives you any trouble, Your Highness, please let me know. I'll gladly throw him back in a cell."

Anna jumped, turning to find Commander Ulbrecht regarding her with the ghost of a smile. His head and left arm were thickly bandaged, and a cane was gripped in his right hand. Elsa knew the guard captain and her sister had reached some kind of détente stemming from events before her arrival at the town hall, and so was glad to see the man back on his feet.

It turned out she was not the only one. "Uncle Ulbrecht!" Seraphim said happily.

Anna boggled. "Wait, what?"

"King Christian was my older brother," he explained. "I served him as guard commander, and I will serve my niece in turn. It will be a considerable improvement to the _regent_." He spat the last word like a curse.

"Wait, wait, wait," Anna said, waving her hands frantically. "So if you're the uncle to our step-cousins, does that make us—?"

"Not related," Elsa assured her. "At all."

"Step-cousins?" Uriel said blankly.

"Because your mother was our father's step-sister."

The prince blinked. "It doesn't quite work that way."

"That's what Elsa said!"

"And yet it seems to have stuck," Elsa sighed, not trying to hide her smile.

It was Kristoff's turn to join the conversation. "The sled is loaded, and the grooms are just about done packing," he informed them. He walked up beside Anna, and Elsa did not fail to notice how unabashedly the two of them began holding hands. There were some particulars surrounding events just prior to Elsa's return to Kristensand that were still a mystery to her, mostly because Anna dissolved into a blushing, giggling fit whenever she reached that point in relaying her stories.

"I suppose this really is goodbye, then," said Anna.

Seraphim wrapped her into another hug, somehow managing to snag Kristoff in the same motion. "I'll miss you! Please write, or better yet, visit. You'll always be welcome here."

"We will. Both. Both write and visit, I mean. And both of us, too," Anna babbled.

"Right," Kristoff agreed. "What she said. I think."

"Your Highness," Uriel said, taking Anna's hand and bowing low over it. With a sidelong glance at Kristoff, he seemed to pointedly not kiss it. But as soon as he stood upright again, he found Anna wrapping around his neck with a hug. He chuckled, patting her back with a bemused, apologetic look at Kristoff.

Elsa found herself facing Seraphim, and they exchanged a much tamer embrace. "If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know," Elsa said.

"You've done so much already. But there is one thing…" Seraphim trailed off.

"Name it."

Two emerald eyes fixed on her, glittering with mischief. "Take the supplies, without payment?"

Elsa had to admire her persistence. "No chance."

"It was worth a try," Seraphim shrugged. "Safe travels, Your Majesty. I expect we'll see each other far more often in the future."

"Count on it," Elsa replied. Her queen-to-be cousin was gone with a wave, and she saw Uriel approach.

"Your Majesty," he said. "It seems like only so long ago we were meeting in a run-down shack."

"We might have wished for better circumstances," Elsa replied, considering the words a monumental understatement. "But I'm glad things have turned out as they did."

His grey eyes twinkled. "Your Majesty, if I may say so, there are almost no circumstances under which I would not wish to meet you."

Elsa blinked. "Thank you. I think."

Uriel took her hand, giving a low, courtly bow. Her bare skin tingled as he brushed a brief kiss across her knuckles. He spoke quietly as he rose, not wishing to be overheard. "I can never thank you enough for what you've given back to me. My kingdom's relief, my sister's life… even my own… these are debts I can never hope to repay."

"You owe me nothing," she insisted. "You saved my life first, as I recall. Consider us even."

His somber mien softened. "We shall have to agree to disagree on that count. Though if you'd permit me one question…?"

Elsa sighed. "For the last time, I can't possibly accept your charity."

He made a soothing gesture. "No, you're quite right about the grain. I'll speak to Sera. If she really means to make me her chancellor, I'll make her regret it. She'll get all the good advice she never wants to hear, I assure you."

"Oh." Elsa blinked uncertainly, feeling a little embarrassed for snapping. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Time will tell, but I suppose the job comes down to protecting her from herself. I've had some practice; that's what big brothers are for, after all." His expression became reflective. "At least until she starts courting. That may require a great deal of weaponry."

Elsa smiled. "You said you had a question?"

He smirked. Even with his half-healed scars, his lopsided smile was unchanged. Elsa found she liked it better that way. "I never had a chance to ask what you thought of your handiwork," he said, gesturing towards his face. "I'm told some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are Russian."

She tapped a finger against her lip, contemplating him with mock seriousness. "I suppose it will have to do," she said with a shrug. That piece of magic beneath the stars in the ruined town hall was still a wonder and a mystery to her, and she had yet to manage a recurrence of its effects. "I'll leave any future healing in your capable hands."

He smiled one last time. "If you ever have need of me, for that or any other reason under the sun, you have naught but to ask. Farewell, Queen Elsa."

She curtsied, he bowed, and with a swirl of his black cape, Prince Uriel strode away.

"Do we _really_ have to leave?" Anna asked.

Elsa nodded, leading her sister towards their waiting carriage. One of the grooms held open the door, giving each of them a hand up the steps into the coach. The door closed, and with the crack of a whip and the rumble of wheels across the cobblestones, their time in Kristensand came to an end. The sisters sat side by side and hand in hand as they began the journey back to Arendelle.

Outside the windows the rain was falling steadily, but the sun refused to hide behind the clouds. Above the mountain border that waited down the road, the glittering arch of a rainbow rose, beckoning them onwards. "For now," Elsa murmured sleepily. She sighed in contentment, feeling her eyes drift closed. "Let's go home."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

***A/N*** - Apologies to BioWare, Garrus Vakarian, and Russians, but that line is just too good not to paraphrase for myself.

There is now an epilogue to this story, which you can find after the appendix. It is identical to the prologue chapter of this story's sequel, _The Snow Queen: Love and Duty_, so you can also feel free to jump straight there via my profile.

Or if you like the story as it stands, then you can stop here. In Anna's own words, I won't judge.


	12. Appendix, Notes, and Thanks

***A/N* - Frozen and Tangled are the property of Disney. All songs mentioned are the properties of their respective owners. Kristiansand is the property of Norway.**

* * *

**__****DRAMATIS PERSONÆ  
**

**ARENDELLE**

-QUEEN ELSA, the Snow Queen,  
...-her sister, PRINCESS ANNA,  
...-her court:  
...-...-KAI, chamberlain,  
...-...-MATHIAS, Captain of the Guard,  
...-...-...-LIAM, MARTIN, EMIL, BENJAMIN, guardsmen,  
...-...-SEBASTIAN, steward and accountant,  
...-...-WILLIAM, Bishop of Arendelle,  
...-...-PERCY LUCAS, Mayor of the City of Arendelle,  
...-...-HENRIK, Foreign Minister,  
...-...-GERDA, head chambermaid,  
...-their friends:  
...-...-KRISTOFF, Ice Master of Arendelle,  
...-...-...-SVEN, his reindeer, Ice Deliverer,  
...-...-OLAF, a snowman,  
...-...-PABBIE, elder of the mountain trolls,  
...-...-BULDA, Kristoff's adoptive mother, a troll,

**KRISTENSAND**

-[KING CHRISTIAN], formerly Duke of Kristensand, crowned shortly before his death,  
...-[DUCHESS HELENA], his first wife,  
...-their children:  
...-...-PRINCE URIEL, his eldest son, a fugitive,  
...-...-[PRINCE GABRIEL], his second son, deceased in a castle fire,  
...-...-PRINCESS SERAPHIM, called Sera, left bedridden by a castle fire,  
...-QUEEN CATALINA, his second wife, Queen Regent of Kristensand,  
...-...-her court:  
...-...-...-DUKE WESLEY OF WESELTON, her guest,  
...-...-...-ULBRECHT, Commander of the Queen's Guard,  
...-...-...-SIMON, physician

* * *

**MISCELLANY **_(or: things I didn't want to leave chapter-length author's notes about)_

The city of Kristensand is based upon the real-life city of Kristiansand on Norway's southwestern coast. It is a hop, skip, and a boat ride away from Arendal, which possibly served as similar inspiration for Arendelle. I looked for a city on the western coast because I wanted to use the sunset heraldry and motif. When I noticed on Kristiansand's Wikipedia page that the city suffered a series of fires during the 19th century, it seemed like providence. Disney, of course, did a much better job of fantasizing the place they used.

Had I gone into truly obnoxious amounts of detail, Kristensand's economy would have been revealed to be centered on the glassware trade, made with the abundant sands in and around the city's harbor. Their secondary exports are grain, iron ore, and limestone.

Duke Christian was a few years older than Elsa and Anna's father, but had already been installed as Duke at that relatively young age. You can gather that he was a bit reckless and free-spirited in that regard, leaving the rule of his duchy (and the raising of his younger brother; Ulbrecht was almost ten years his junior) to others while he adventured the countryside. Marriage, or rather Duchess Helena, settled him quite a bit. There was no one reason for he and Elsa's father's estrangement, they simply grew apart as Christian grew up and Elsa's father became king. Neither was aware that the other had a child with magical powers.

If anyone is curious why Catalina was regent when Ulbrecht was actually Duke Christian's younger brother, it comes down to feudal inertia, a lack of ambition on Ulbrecht's part, and Kristensand's take on cognatic primogeniture. As a newly-established kingdom, their inheritance laws would be a bit more liberal than the traditional monarchies of the region. Regardless of gender, all children take precedence in the line of succession before the crown moves to collateral relatives, so Ulbrecht comes after all his brother's children. He would technically take precedence over Catalina (for the crown; regency is an appointed title, not an inherited one), but that's just another reason why she was willing to get rid of him as soon as he started questioning her.

Had Ulbrecht been anything but loyal to his family and Kristensand, he could have created quite a snarl. For an idea of what can happen when a royal line starts jumping back up the family tree to younger sons, look up John of Gaunt on Wikipedia. His older brother was the real-life Black Prince, Edward of Woodstock, who just like Uriel was named so because of his personal style, not his personality (unless you ask the French about chevauchée). When Edward predeceased his father (Edward III), it sowed the seeds for the Wars of the Roses.

Uriel has just turned 22 at the time of the story. His birthday is in early August. Gabriel was 20. Seraphim is 17, born in April (another reason why she wants to put off her coronation until the spring). Helena died when Seraphim was just a few months old. There was nothing sinister, just an untimely fall from a spooked horse.

I've received more than a few comments in reviews regarding an Elsa/Uriel pairing. Romance was never in the scope of this particular story, but I'm not going to fool anyone if I say it was not meant to be implied. And since Anna's running gag with the "step-cousins" didn't seem to suffice, I would like to stress that Helena was their father's _step-sister_, not _half-sister_. Uriel and Seraphim are cousins to Elsa and Anna by way of two marriages, and by modern definition they don't qualify as cousins or even step-cousins. They are not any blood relation whatsoever.

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**GAG REEL**

The plot changed significantly in the course of writing. Some fun, funny, or terrifyingly bad ideas that didn't make the cut:

-The fortunes the trolls told to Duke Christian and Elsa's father when they stayed the night would have been a prophecy. Scrapped because I both hate prophecy stories and found it unlikely Elsa would remember the wording to any significant degree.

-Ulbrecht was supposed to be a traditional Dragon to Queen Catalina, and would have fought Anna and Kristoff while Elsa duelled Catalina. I decided to subvert the little rivalry between he and Anna instead, and I think it turned out much better that way.

-Originally, Queen Catalina spoke in the majestic plural (also know as the "royal we"). I've never been so happy to hit backspace and see a page of text vanish.

-I flirted with the idea of closing chapter ten at "In a slow, steady rain, snow began to fall." When I decided against it, I also considered posting an alternate chapter eleven where that had actually happened. Talk about your downer endings.

-While brainstorming a way to get Olaf into the story: Elsa learned how to summon Olaf to her just by creating a new body for him. Alternately, she created copies of him by creating new bodies for him. Scrapped because they didn't fit how I wanted her magic to work, but these ideas still haunt my nightmares. And a legion of Olafs should haunt yours, too.

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**SOUNDTRACK**

I'm hardly unique in that I listen to music while writing. There are a few songs that especially inspired me as I was crafting this story, and I parenthesized a relevant re-title if they had significance to a particular character or scene. As mentioned above, I do not own any of these songs in any way (except through the iTunes store, but you get the idea). In chronological order for the story:

"Nero" - Two Steps From Hell - Archangel ("A Dream Afire")

"Winterspell" - Two Steps From Hell - Skyworld ("The Snow Queen/Elsa's Theme")

"Journey to the West" - Joe Hisaishi - Princess Mononoke ("The Western Pass")

"Blizzard" - Two Steps From Hell - Skyworld ("Quarry Ambush")

"Dark Harbor" - Two Steps From Hell - Archangel ("Catalina Revealed")

"Blackheart" - Two Steps From Hell - Skyworld ("The Black Prince/Uriel's Theme")

"Vuelie (feat. Cantus)" - Christophe Beck & Frode Fjellheim - Frozen ("The Summer Snow")

"Fear Not This Night" - Jeremy Soule and Asja Kadric - Guild Wars 2 ("End Credits")

The last one is a bit of a cheat (if anything, you're reading the "credits"), but the lyrics are both beautiful and surprisingly appropriate to the story's theme.

Special thanks to Alan Menken and Christophe Beck for the entire soundtracks of both Frozen and Tangled, which got a significant amount of play as I was writing.

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**THANKS**

Thank you to each and every one of you who reviewed this story: Toastyann, HMZ, simplesnowflake, Lord Destroyer, JanessaVR, D, FrozenFanatic, Moonsheep, Quizer, It's Almost A Secret, FrozenRose1, lotrlover16, stagemanagertargaryen, reens, penName111, Shinkicker, White Belt Writer, Elsa Thorence Filia Athena, Cheerfully Cynical, jv2en3, Wickedly Hope Panacake, ender-jones86, Merina, bueller806, Olafqhace, InfernoLeo9, itisunreal, TwistedTelepath, KaleidoscopeHeavens, cheesyteal'c, darkxchocolate94, awesomesauce, LaraAelric, MagicOfDisney, Anysia, NicPie, cumulo-dingus, writingwhiseys, CELL.4144, dandelion379, kitty1872, The-Sexiest-Bookworm, lovelyrugby, counterpunch, Merina 2, Shadow Huntress, Shawberry, mrjop2, Anna Marie Raven, CraigDogH, bitca84, Jeanna, princesspay10, Kuann, and any and all anonymous and guest reviewers who didn't leave a name for me to thank them by or reply personally to.

Special thanks to Toastyann, my first and most dedicated reviewer, and LaraAelric for her thoughtful comments and interest in my take on the magic of Frozen.

Additional heartfelt thanks to anyone who pointed out typos and grammatical mistakes for me to fix!

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Always remember, if you have an idea you want to share or a story you want to tell, then take Elsa's advice, as I did:

_**LET IT GO, LET IT GO! **_


	13. Epilogue: Letters

***A/N* - **I'm posting this chapter here as an epilogue to make anyone who has an alert on this story aware that I have begun publishing the sequel. While this does work as an epilogue to the story you're currently reading, you can find identical text posted as the prologue chapter of the fic _The Snow Queen: Love and Duty_.

If you're just here to read _Frozen: The Snow Queen_, feel free to ignore this chapter and consider the curtain to have fallen at the end of chapter eleven. (That's also why I've left this after the appendix.) But if you want the sequel hook that I very intentionally omitted from the original story, then by all means read on!

Just to note, _Frozen: The Snow Queen_ is now well and truly complete. I don't plan on further updates, and will only make changes in the event of grammatical corrections or typos, 99.99% of which I believe either I or sharp-eyed readers have ferreted out by now. Please let me know if you spotted something that proves me wrong!

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**EPILOGUE**

**Letters**

September dawned on Paris unseasonably cold and dreary. It brought with it a fitful precipitation that did nothing to improve the mood of Bernard Maret as he disembarked from his carriage and made his way inside the French Foreign Ministry. He shook the damp spots from his overcoat with a grim determination that helped distract from the aggravating itchiness that plagued his scalp whenever it rained. Silently cursing the powdered wig and the entire lineage of whoever had deigned to invent it, Maret waved aside the greetings of the doorman and receptionist with indecipherable grunts, storming through the halls towards his office with an unapproachable aura. It did nothing to stop the incessant chorus of well-wishers, sycophants, and petitioners that plagued him until at long last his office door slammed shut behind him.

"Wonderful weather, isn't it?"

Maret scowled, shrugging off his overcoat and tossing it at the speaker, who caught it with deft practice and a wry smile. "I'm in no mood for it today, Dominic," Maret growled at his secretary. He stomped around his desk, throwing himself into the massive chair behind it with a weary sigh. He sank into the cushions, massaging his temples and refusing to open his eyes until he heard the muted clink of china.

"The day is young, Minister."

Maret gave a noncommittal grunt as he accepted the cup offered to him. He stirred the steaming coffee, allowing the scent to drive away some of his foul mood. By the time he took a sip, he felt almost sociable again.

"You have a meeting with the Minister of Police in two hours," the secretary said, arranging some of the papers that lined the desk. "Followed by a lunch with the Austrian ambassador."

Maret frowned. "He'll want an update on the emperor's progress, no doubt. I tell you Dominic, the vultures are circling."

The other man paused over a pile of correspondence, raising an eyebrow. "Is it really so bad?"

"Two months in enemy territory, and all the Grande Armée has to show for it are bloody skirmishes and longer supply lines." _And casualty reports that are either too censored to credit or too ghastly to consider_, he did not say aloud. "His Imperial Majesty could be standing at the gates of Moscow as we speak, but if the tsar's army keeps falling back, the Russian winter will do what no force at arms has been able to for ten years. Alexander will never come to terms at this rate."

"News is slow to arrive. A decisive battle may have already happened," Dominic said hopefully. "The war could be over, and we may just not know it yet."

"For better or worse," Maret agreed darkly. "But in the meantime, we must keep the rest of the world thinking we are unassailable. What letters do I have?"

Dominic shuffled through one of the stacks. "An invitation to a ball to honor Marshal Marmont and the Comte de Bonet, who are both in town recovering from wounds taken at Salamanca."

"RSVP, with my compliments." An experienced diplomat, Maret knew that such parties were the best places for him to get any real work done, making his attendance a matter of practicality. It didn't hurt that in addition to being one of the crème de la crème, a Marshal of the Empire, Auguste de Marmont was also one of the emperor's oldest and closest friends.

The secretary set the invitation aside, picking up the next envelope. "Ah, another petition for a meeting from the Spanish ambassador. I believe that's the sixth this week."

Maret stifled a groan. "Is he trying to set some kind of record? Keep him at bay, Dominic. It's impossible that either of us has any good news for the other where the Peninsula is concerned." _I can only contain so many crises at once_, he thought glumly.

"Here's a report from the Minister of the Navy on this month's embargo efforts in the Baltic territories."

"Give me that one. It might have some tall tales I can use to distract the Austrian ambassador over lunch. Did I tell you about last month's report? Some captains were claiming to have spotted ice floes in the North Sea. In _July_." He chuckled. "The fools were better off chalking every loss up to the British blockade. Those stories were at least credible."

Dominic handed over the letter and resumed his progress through the rest of the stack. "Here's another complaint from the Minister of Trade for being left off the guest list on Bastille Day. And… that's odd."

"What?"

"This one is dated from last month. I'll have to have a word with the couriers. It's a letter from Joseph Ducos, one of our foreign emissaries."

Maret snorted. "The junior official we shuffled off to… where was it, again? Arendal? Something like that."

"Arendelle. Actually, sir, the letter is marked both most secret and most urgent."

The minister rolled his eyes. "You read it, then. No doubt the lad Ducos thinks news of the latest goings-on in a petty kingdom is of vital importance to the French Empire, but I have my doubts."

A brief silence came over the office, interrupted only by the rasp of paper or the occasional sip of coffee. Maret finished browsing through the navy's latest set of excuses for their inability to properly police the trade embargo of Britain and tossed the letter aside. But with one glance at Dominic, the minister was given pause by the look of intense concentration on his secretary's face. "What is it?"

Dominic jumped, startled out of a daze by the question. He shook his head, handing over the letter with an expression of mute shock.

Maret's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me the Norwegians are making more noise about the Continental System." He snatched the letter out of his secretary's hand and began to read.

He stopped. He looked at Dominic. He blinked. And then the foreign minister started reading again, from the beginning.

When he reached the end, Maret placed the letter upon his desk. Still staring at the paper with disbelief, he said simply, "Find me Ducos. _Now_."

* * *

...

* * *

When the foreign minister went storming through the halls of his ministry this time, no one dared say a word. His demeanor was not just that of a man irritated by the weather and the want of his morning coffee. He was furious. The staff on the lower levels of the building were not accustomed to seeing the minister at all, and scrambled out of his path with admirable dispatch. By the time Maret threw open the door to a tiny office on the lowest level of the building's basement, the vicinity was practically deserted.

The man sitting behind the desk in that office looked up, startled at the sudden arrival. Middle-aged, with an impossibly tall nose and short black hair slicked back with a prominent widow's peak, he stared at the minister. A thin, well-groomed beard and mustache framed a mouth that had dropped open into the shape of a shocked O. "Minister Maret!" he gasped. "Please, come in, sit down!"

"What is the meaning of this, Ducos?" Maret waved a wadded sheet of paper in the younger man's face, clenched in a shaking fist.

"Minister? I don't—"

"An official communique of the French Foreign Services, affixed with the seal of our ministry, and stamped for the highest levels of urgency and secrecy."

Ducos' eyes lit up. He practically jumped from behind his desk. "You finally read my report? I had almost feared it lost, to not have heard anything back before now!"

"Read it? I daresay I have! Is this some kind of joke?"

"Of course not!" the younger man protested. "I dispatched that letter from Oslo, hoping to apprise the Foreign Ministry of urgent news while I delivered a prisoner entrusted to my custody back to the Southern Isles. When I returned to Paris with no further word, I tried to make an appointment with you, but I had not yet been granted a meeting with your undersecretary's assistant in charge of scheduling, and—"

"Be quiet, you fool! I don't know whose eyes you're trying to catch, or what promotion you think this drivel entitles you to, but when I receive an official report from a plenipotentiary of the French Empire, I do not expect to read a fairy tale!"

Ducos stiffened with indignation. "Minister, I swear to you, every line of that report is fact. If you doubt me, then ask the representative from the German Confederation. Or Spain! Ambassador Cortez was there himself."

Maret blinked. Cortez had been hounding him for a meeting for more than a month, he'd assumed because of the latest comedy of errors in the Peninsular War. But the ambassador had been more persistent than usual, ever since he'd returned from the side-trip he'd referred to as a "vacation"… a brief journey to attend the coronation of a new queen in Arendelle. Maret stared at the parchment wadded up in his fist with a dawning sense of dread. "You mean… it's true?"

"Every word," Ducos nodded stiffly.

"You're telling me that a girl from a Scandinavian backwater can conjure a blizzard for a hundred square kilometers around herself with _magic?_"

"Please, Minister. I have met Queen Elsa, she is hardly worthy of being called—"

"_WITH MAGIC?!_" Maret roared. The tiny glass panes in the door to the office rattled as his shout echoed away down the hall.

Ducos' mouth snapped shut. He gave the tiniest of nods.

"Do you realize what this means?" Maret was pacing back and forth in the tiny confines of the office, staring at the paper in his hand with sheer awe. "She could blockade every port from Southampton to Gibraltar. She could freeze the Royal Navy in its place. Forget the Russian winter; she could trap any army in any theatre on a _whim!_ The emperor would sell every last one of his marshals to the devil himself for one _week_ with this girl at his command!"

"Forgive me, Minister, but I don't think she would—"

"Oh, no." Maret's eyes, alight with the possibilities, suddenly grew pensive. "Don't tell me, have the British already claimed her? For the love of God, man, please don't tell me she's actually sympathetic to those slack-jawed monarchists."

"Actually, I don't think she has any great love for either—"

"She could ruin us, if so… If word got out, whoever held her leash would own the keys to the world itself. Ducos, who was there? Damn it man, stop gawking and tell me! Who else knows about her?"

"A great many officials were in attendance for the coronation. Myself, as well as the ambassadors for the Confederation of the Rhine and Spain, as I said. Some two dozen regional aristocrats and minor nobles—"

"Hah! Of course! No Dano-Norwegian would have any love lost for the British after they burned Copenhagen. It's even possible our old friends across the channel are too preoccupied by the new war in the Americas to have even noticed…"

"Actually, the Irish had an ambassador present, as well," said Ducos. "A friendly sort of fellow, actually."

"What? What on Earth were the Irish doing invited to such a place?"

"Some distant relations to the royal family, I understand. The queen's younger sister has red hair, as a matter of fact."

"Damn it all. If the Irish know, then so will the British. Eventually. It all depends on who they hate more on a given day, us or each other."

"The whole world will know, eventually," Ducos pointed out. He frowned. "Assuming they place sufficient trust in the words of their envoys."

"Don't be snide," Maret said, giving the younger man a sharp glance. "I tolerate my secretary's sarcasm, but you don't make coffee half so well. Who else have you told about this? Who else knows?"

"I have told no one myself, minister. I did not label my report secret only to go telling everyone about its contents. As for anyone else who is aware, I can give you a full guest list to the best of my recollection. There were few foreign ambassadors present apart from those I already mentioned. Only a loathsome prince from the Southern Isles and a young couple from the Coronan royal family."

"We have plans to make, then. Get me that list, as quick as you're able," Maret instructed. He turned and barreled out of the office, thoughts awhirl with just how this new wild card would come into play. "When word of this spreads, the young Queen of Arendelle will find herself with a great many people interested in the fate of her little kingdom."

~:-:~

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~:-:~

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**in**

_**The Snow Queen: Love and Duty**_


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